I'm Sorry, Jessie

I watch my little girl chase a butterfly in the front yard, her new boots tramping through the fresh mud from last night’s rainfall. Trees sway in the wind, sending shadows dancing crazily across the yard. I stand in the shadow of the house, the only relief from the boiling sun.

I inherited the old farmhouse from my parents when they died in a car crash three years ago. There’s a lot of memories in it, from when my older brother shoved me into the stone walls to when Mom and I used to work on the flourishing garden outback. I’ve never had a green thumb like her and I’ve never been as worried about the rotting shingles or the weeds growing in the cobblestone drive as my Dad but I’ve kept the place up.

Jessie had long since ripped out the ponytail I had put in her hair this morning, leaving her hair to look like a roaring fire thrown around by this wind. If she stays out for much longer, I’ll need to lather her up in more sunscreen. Her skin is so pale that she might as well be allergic to sunlight. The butterfly flutters up into the trees where Jessie quickly loses sight of it. She drops her head and mopes back to where I’m standing.

“What’s wrong Jessie?” I ask. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes. Her small face has a splattering of dark freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Softly, she says, “It flew away.”

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll find another one.”

She sniffles. “But, it's too high.”

I wink at her. “Then we’ll just have to make you taller.” I scoop her up into my arms and sit her on my shoulders.

“I’m so high!” she scream/giggles, something she’s become an expert at lately.

“Let's go get that butterfly!” I shout, running into the front yard. Her scream/giggles don’t stop as the two of us race into the side yard and scare all the little bugs that had been sleeping here.

“Daddy, there!” she shouts as a blue butterfly leaps into the air. We run after it, laughing as Jessie’s baby arms reach out to grab it. The sudden blast of a car horn startles me. I stop and look up, surprised to see a red car winding down the cobblestone drive. “Daddy! It's getting away!”

“Sorry, baby girl,” I say as I pull her off my shoulders. “We gotta go inside now, okay?”“Nooo. I wanna play!” she wines. I glance past her at the red car. I can already feel the wind pressure dropping as the storm rolls in. Shadows darken and the air stills. The calm before the storm can’t last long enough. Jessie twists around in my arms to see what I’m staring at and breaks out into a grin. “Mommy!”

She squirms in my arms but I hold her tight so Emily can’t accidentally run her over. When the car stops, I put Jessie down and follow the little girl’s frantic run at a much slower pace. Emily jumps out of the car, as beautiful and clumsy as ever. She drops her purse, the contents scattering on the drive but she ignores it and scoops Jessie into her arms. It always amazes me how much the two of them look alike. The only real differences between them are Jessie’s freckles and brown eyes, which are almost mirrors of mine.

“Morning Emily,” I say. She looks at me and all of the laughter she had only moments ago drained away.

“It’s two o’clock, Jonah,” she corrects. There’s something else that I always forget, she hates me now.

“Mommy, I drew something for you!” Jessie announces proudly.

“Did you? Let’s go see it, Jasmine. Just let me get my purse.” Jessie squeals and grabs her hand, racing inside and leaving the purse without a second thought. Or a first. I scoop it up, dump everything back into it, and lock the car before heading inside.

The storm has arrived.

I found the two of them in Jessie’s room, painted neon pink as per her specifications. They’re sitting on the princess bed, looking at the drawing that Jessie drew of the three of us last night. I lean against the doorframe, watching the two of them.

“That’s really good, Jasmine,” Emily was saying. “We can draw more at Mommy’s house, okay?”

“Yeah!” Jessie shouts.

“Grab your stuff, we’re leaving soon.”

“What are you talking about?” I demand. Her head snaps up, surprised to see me. “Jessie’s not going anywhere.”

“Her name is Jasmine,” she says, exasperated. “And it's time for her to come home.”

“This is her home,” I insist, stepping into the room. I look past her at Jessie’s worried face and plaster on a smile. “You can draw here. Jessie, why don’t you go get your colors. We’ll meet you out there, okay?” Jessie nods but she doesn’t seem so sure. I kneel down at the foot of the bed to get closer to her and whisper, “I’ll keep Mommy distracted. You go draw something amazing to show her. It’ll be a surprise!”

“Yeah!” She hops off her bed, giggling. “Mommy, wait here!” Then she hurries off to the den. I watch her go, knowing that I can’t let this divorce affect her. She’s my little girl and I’ll fight tooth and nail for her. I stand up and close the door before returning my attention to Emily.

I want to scream at her, I want her to know how furious I am for everything that she’s done to tear our family apart. I lower my voice to a harsh whisper so Jessie can't hear us. “She’s not going anywhere. The court said that I’m keeping her here until custody is finalized. It was either that, or she goes to a foster home, which we both agreed isn’t going to happen. Jessie stays here.”

I can already hear the thunder and see the dark clouds reflected in her eyes. “She is my daughter,” Emily says, much louder than me. “I have the right to take her. You have no idea how to take care of her.”

“I’ve been taking care of her for almost a month!” I shout/whisper. I glance over my shoulder at the door then lower my voice. “You’re the one that wanted this divorce, not me. You’re the one that’s hurting her, not me.”

“You are the one that forced my hand and-”

“Daddy?” I spin around, surprised to see Jessie half hiding behind the door. Emily and I both stand there for a moment, frozen. My blood starts flowing first and I walk up to her.

“Hey, baby girl. I thought you were going to draw,” I say softly.

“I… I wanted my unicorn pen.” She points past me to her desk, where her favorite multi-colored unicorn pen was. I stand up and get it for her, half climbing over the bed because Emily still hasn’t moved. I don’t know what to do, I just know that I have to get Emily to leave before we start arguing again. I kneel down and wrap Jessie’s tiny hand around the pen and give her a big grin but she isn’t fooled. “Daddy, why was Mommy shouting?”

“Oh, it’s nothing sweetheart. But, Mommy has to go now. She has something really important that she has to do.”

“But…”

“No buts. Mommy has to leave now. Don’t worry, you’ll see her soon.” I glance back at Emily but she doesn’t protest. “Until then… why don’t you give Mommy that drawing? She really liked it and I think she’d really like to put it up somewhere. How does that sound?”

Jessie nods then runs past me to grab the drawing and proudly give it to Emily, who takes it without a word. “Be careful with that, Emily. It’s one of a kind, just like its artist.” I rub Jessie’s head, sparking a giggle out of her.

“This isn’t over, Jonah,” she says quietly as she brushes by me, stuffing the drawing into her purse. Jessie and I stand on the porch, waving goodbye. I hold Jessie in my arms, one of her hands holding onto my shirt. I watch the little red car slide down the drive and disappear behind a clump of trees.

“Daddy, when’s Mommy coming back?”

“I don’t know sweetie. Come on, bedtime.”

“Can’t I stay up for just a little bit?” she asks as I carry her inside.

“I’ll make you a deal. Go get your pajamas on and we can watch a movie on the couch.” She smiles and nods. I set her down and let her run off to her room. I head back into my own, running a hand through my hair with a sigh. The storm shook my bones and blew out my windows, but I’m still standing. My foundation’s stronger than she can understand. I know about Emily’s childhood, I know about her abusive Dad and her addict Mom. She’s never been able to understand that I want her. I gave her everything but, there’s always been a part of her that I haven’t been able to reach, a part that she keeps under lock and key. I tried to bury it when she told me that she wanted a divorce but it just kept springing up like weeds in the cobblestones. I still love her, and whenever I look at Jessie, I see Emily.

A piercing shriek jerks me out of my thoughts.

“Jessie!” I shout, racing into the living room. “Jessie!”

“Daddy!” She runs to me from behind the couch. I drop to my knees and squeeze her to my chest.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“There’s a monster!” I pause when she says that and take a deep breath, pushing her back a little bit.

“A monster? Sweetheart, you know monsters aren’t real.” She shakes her head and points back to her room.

“It was in there.”

“Okay, I’ll take a look.” I start to stand up but she grabs my hand to stop me.

“No! It already hurt you once! Please don’t Daddy, please!” A fat tear rolls down her cheek and drips onto her flower-patterned pajamas.

“Hurt me? What are you talking about?”

She sniffles. “It hurt you and Mommy, it makes you angry. It was in my room, it made you fight!”

Oh…

I just look at her for a moment. This little six-year-old angel, scared of a monster that’s hurting her parents. “Oh, honey…” I scoop her up and sit down on the couch with her in my lap. “Jessie, there’s no monster. Nobody’s hurt me or Mommy, I promise.”

She sniffles, harder this time. “Then why were you fighting?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Well, sometimes people fight. Sometimes… sometimes people just don’t get along.”

She nods but I can tell that she doesn’t really understand. Then she asks, “Daddy, do you still love Mommy?”

After a long pause and a dozen of emotions racing through me, I say, “Yes, I do love her. But I don’t think your Mommy loves me anymore. Sometimes we’re going to fight about that, but it's going to be okay. No monster is hurting us.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. It’s gonna be okay.” I kiss the top of her head. “I promise.” She sniffles and curls up against my chest. I wrap my arms tight around her, wishing for all the world that such a sweet angel didn’t have to go through such a vengeful storm.

I’m sorry, Jessie.