At First Sight

"Hi, Daddy," she would say, her voice almost inaudible.

"Hi, sweetheart," he would answer, and Claire would go into his arms. As he lifted her and leaned back, she would relax against him, head on his shoulder, her small arms twined around his neck.

"I love you so much," Jeremy would say, feeling the shallow movement of her chest as she breathed.

"I love you, too, Daddy."

At moments like those, he ached that she never knew her mother.

It was time. Jeremy slipped on his jacket and zipped it up. Then, heading down the hall with her jacket, hat, and mittens, he went into Claire's bedroom. He placed his hand on her back and felt the quick rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Claire, sweetie?" he whispered. "I need you to wake up."

He shook her slightly, and she rolled her head from one side to the other.

"C'mon, sweetie," he said, reaching for her. He slowly scooped her into his arms, thinking how light she seemed. In just a few years, he would no longer be able to do this.

She moaned slightly. "Daddy?" she whispered.

He smiled, thinking she was the most beautiful child in the world.

"It's time to go."

Her eyes were still closed as she answered, "Okay, Daddy."

He sat her on the bed, slipped her rubber boots over the thick pajamas she'd worn to bed, and draped her jacket around her shoulders, watching as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He slid on her mittens, then her hat, and picked her up again.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

She yawned. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to take a ride," Jeremy said, carrying her through the living room. As he adjusted her in his arms, he patted his pocket, making sure he had the keys.

"In the car?"

"Yes," he said, "in the car."

She looked around, her face showing the youthful confusion that he'd come to adore. She turned toward the window.

"But it's dark," she said.

"Yes," Jeremy said again. "And it's foggy, too."

Outside, the air was crisp and moist, and the lonely stretch of road that passed by his house looked as if a cloud had been dropped upon it. In the sky, neither the moon nor the stars were evident, as if the universe itself had been erased. He shifted Claire in his arms so that he could reach for his keys, then placed her in the booster seat.

"It's scary out here," she said. "Like on Scooby-Doo."

"Kind of," he admitted, buckling her in. "But we'll be safe."

"I know," she said.

"I love you," he added. "Do you know how much?"

She rolled her eyes as if she were an actress. "More than there are fishes in the sea and higher than the moon. I know."

"Ah," Jeremy said.

"It's cold," she added.

"I'll turn the heater on just as soon as I start the car."

"Are we going to Grandma's?"

"No," he said. "She's sleeping. We're going to a special place."

Beyond the window of the car, the streets of Boone Creek were quiet, and the town seemed to be asleep. With the exception of porch lights, most of the homes were dark. Jeremy drove slowly, navigating carefully through the fog-covered country hills.

After pulling to a stop in front of Cedar Creek Cemetery, he removed a flashlight from the glove compartment. He unbuckled Claire from her car seat and headed into the cemetery, Claire's hand wrapped in his own.

Checking his watch, Jeremy noted that it was past midnight, but he knew he still had a few minutes. Claire was holding the flashlight, and as he walked beside her, he could hear the rustle of leaves underfoot. The fog made it impossible to see more than a few steps in any direction, but it had taken Claire only an instant to realize where they were.

"Are we going to see Mommy?" she asked. "Because you forgot to bring flowers."

In the past, when he brought her here they always brought flowers. More than four years ago, Lexie had been buried next to her parents. It had required a special dispensation from the county commissioners to have her buried here, but Mayor Gherkin had forced it through at the request of Doris and Jeremy.

Jeremy paused. "You'll see," he promised.

"Then what are we doing here?"

He squeezed her hand. "You'll see," he repeated.

They walked a few steps in silence. "Can we see if the flowers are still there?"

He smiled, pleased that she cared and also that coming here in the middle of the night didn't frighten her. "Of course we can, sweetheart."

Ever since the funeral, Jeremy visited the cemetery at least once every couple of weeks, usually bringing Claire with him. It was here she learned about her mother; he told her of their visits to the top of Riker's Hill, told her that it was here he'd first known he loved Lexie, told her that he'd moved here because he couldn't imagine a life without her. He talked mainly as a way of keeping Lexie alive in his memory, doubting whether Claire was even listening. Yet even though she was not yet five, she could now recite his stories as if she'd lived them. The last time he'd brought her here, she'd listened quietly and seemed almost withdrawn by the time they'd left. "I wish she didn't die," she'd said on their way back to the car. That had happened a little after Thanksgiving, and he wondered whether it had anything to do with her nightmares. They hadn't started until a month later, but he couldn't be sure.

Trudging through the moist and chilly night, they finally reached the graves. Claire aimed the flashlight toward them. He could see the names James and Claire; beside them was the name Lexie Marsh and the flowers they'd placed in front of the grave on the day before Christmas.

After leading Claire to the spot where he and Lexie had first seen the lights, he sat down and pulled his daughter onto his lap. Jeremy remembered the story Lexie had told about her parents and the nightmares she'd had as a child, and Claire, sensing something special was about to happen, barely moved.

Claire was Lexie's daughter in more ways than he realized, for when the lights began their dance across the sky, he felt Claire leaning against him. Claire, whose great-grandmother assured her that ghosts were real, stared transfixed at the show taking place before her. It was only a feeling, but as he held her, he knew that Claire would have no more nightmares. Tonight they would end, and Claire would sleep peacefully. No, he couldn't explain it--and later he would be proven correct--but in the last few years, he'd learned that science didn't have all the answers.

The lights, as always, were a celestial wonder, rising and falling in spectacular fashion, and Jeremy found himself mesmerized along with his daughter. Tonight the lights seemed to last a few seconds longer than normal, and in the brightness, he could see the expression of awe on his daughter's face.

"Is it Mama?" she finally asked. Her voice was no louder than the wind in the leaves above them.

He smiled, his throat tight. In the quiet of the night, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world. Jeremy took a long breath, remembering Lexie, believing that she was here with them, and knowing that if he could see her now, she would be smiling with joy, content in the knowledge that her daughter and husband were going to be okay.

Yes," he said, holding her tight. "I think she wanted to meet you."