Precious Moments

“So, are you excited about tonight?” Robert asked his daughter Janelle.

“Yes!! I can’t wait!” the 7-year-old cheesed with her gapped smile. “I’ve been practicing for eight whole weeks!”

“I know you have,” Robert smiled with great pride and joy. “Can you believe it? Your first big recital. That’s a pretty big deal, you know…”

“Oh, I know!! And I’m so ready for it. I can hardly sit still!!”

“Well, you’ll have to sit for just a little while longer, through dinner, and then we’re off! You have your outfit, right?”

Janelle lifted her right hand from under the table, the plastic-bag handles twirling around her tiny wrist. “Yep! Right here,” she exclaimed. She un-twirled the handles and yanked out a frilly turquoise dress. The puffy-sleeved, cotton-blended top cinched at the waist before it billowed out to a voluminous lace skirt drenched with ruffles.

“Isn’t it so pretty, Dad?” her eyes glossed as they admired.

“Ha ha, yes it is, honey,” he said. “It’s beautiful. A beautiful little dress for a beautiful little girl!”

“I’m not little!” she slightly frowned.

“Ah yes, why what ever was I thinking. A beautiful little dress for a beautiful big girl. Please accept my apologies!”

“Apology accepted,” she grinned.

“Why, thank you. So, back to this dress. I see it’s in your favorite color, too.”

“Yes!” she excitedly affirmed.

“Looks like you and your mom did good in getting it!”

“Thank you. Now, can I go put it on, please?!?” she pled.

“No, now, Janelle, you know what your mom said. You need to wait until after you eat, to get dressed for the recital. We wanna make sure you don’t spill anything.”

“Oh but I won’t, Dad! I won’t, I promise I won’t!! I’ll be extra, extra careful. Please just let me go ahead and put it on now. Please, dad? Please!!!”

“Janelle, what did we say?” he said, with a slightly stern look and tone. “Your mom gave me this one job, and she’ll already be running late from work when she meets us there. The last thing I’m going to do is have her upset with me when you show up with a big blob of spaghetti stain smack dab in the middle of your dress!” He nudged her for a smile, but it didn’t work. Instead, her eyes softened, and her lips slightly pouted. “Okay,” she said, not completely somberly as she was hoping to sell. “I’m just so excited, I can hardly stand it.”

“I know, honey. We’ll be done with dinner, and you can put on your pretty dress before we can say ‘onion’!!”

That worked.

Janelle giggled. “‘Onion’?! Why in the world would we say ‘onion’?”

“Well, why not? It’s something stinky that you don’t like, right? So, you’d get it out of your sight faster than a piece of chocolate cake!”

Janelle’s giggle turned into full laughter. “Dad, you’re so silly.”

Robert smiled. “Whatever gets those pearly whites back.”

With anxious eyes, Janelle finished slurping her last saucy noodle, definitely a new personal record for how fast she’d gotten it all down, and faced her plate towards her dad to show the orange-tinted white dish. Robert decided not to mention the several specks of tomato sauce that must’ve missed her mouth and instead landed on several places throughout the shirt she still had on from school earlier that day. Instead, he silently chuckled and patted himself on the back for not caving on making her wait until after dinner to change clothes.

Parenthood, he thought.

“Go ahead,” he said, and Janelle darted towards the bathroom before he could finish his last syllable. “Oh wait, wait!!” Robert shouted after her as he slid out of the booth. He’d been so focused on his meatloaf, potatoes, and salad he was still working on that he’d forgotten he needed to accompany her to the restrooms while she changed.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up and see the back of her yellow shirt and blue jeans, just as she walked through the door of the restroom with the mostly triangular stick figure. In a few more feet, he found himself staring back at himself, thanks to the mirror beside it. It looked like Janelle wasn’t the only one who got some of the night’s dinner on her day’s wardrobe, except, at least hers had stopped there. He plucked two specks of mashed potato from the coily black beard that covered his sharp jawline and wondered how a few more pieces had managed to lodge into his long black locs.

What, did I get in a food fight when I wasn’t watching, or something?! he comically wondered. Janelle didn’t see and tell me all of this was going on?! I’m going to get her!!

He smiled as he eyed the door on the other side of the mirror—the one with the mostly rectangular stick figure. He figured he’d drop in, wash up real quick, and thought this would also be a good time to empty some of what he’d recently poured in.

After washing and drying his hands, Robert was back out in the hallway, spud-free. He knew he had likely beat Janelle out—because, girls—so he patiently waited. He figured she’d probably also smartly decided to empty herself while she was in there.

As a few minutes passed, several women and teenaged girls walked in and out, but still no Janelle. He quickly stepped back out to the main dining area, to make sure she hadn’t come out while he’d used the restroom.

No, no sign of her at their table or anywhere else in sight of the café.

He hurried back to the restrooms, and when no one went in or came out for the next few minutes, he knocked on the door.

“Janelle? Honey?” he asked. “You ok in there?”

Silence pervaded behind the door with the mostly triangular stick figure.

Moments later, a middle-aged, red-haired woman walked out.

“Umm excuse me,” Robert said to the woman as she passed. “Did you see a little girl in there?”

“Uhh, no, sir, I don’t think so?” she answered.

Robert’s heart began to quicken. “Could you please do me a favor and check for me? She’s my daughter, 7 years old. Her name is Janelle.”

The woman’s brow raised as her eyes surveyed him. “Umm okay. Sure, sir, of course,” she said. “I can check.”

Sir? he briefly chuckled to himself. I should be calling her ‘ma’am.’ She’s gotta have at least a decade on me.

Not long after he finished that thought, the woman came back out. “I’m sorry, sir. There aren’t any little girls in that bathroom.”

Beats in Robert’s heart seemed to instantly quadruple. “Are you sure?” he asked in an exasperated tone.

“Umm yeah, I checked all of the stalls,” she said. "Only two were occupied, and from a quick look under, neither of them was a child.”

“Did you call her name?” he asked.

“I mean, I could see she wasn’t in there—-”

“Please, just call her name.”

“Okay. What was it again?”

“Janel—”

“Dad?” 

Another woman walked out of the bathroom, just as the red-haired one was about to go back in. This woman was staring at Robert.

She laughed. “Dad, you know you don’t have to escort me to the bathroom, right? I’m a big girl!” She put her hand on his shoulder.

The red-haired woman looked at them both with her fiery eyebrow still raised, ignoring Robert’s now-scrunched brows, and walked on pass them, back to the main dining room.

Robert remained standing there, his mouth agape, unsure what was happening.

“Dad? Are you okay?” this woman asked.

“Why are you calling me ‘Dad’?” he finally managed to speak up.

The woman sighed, trying to mask her deflated face. “Dad, let’s go sit down,” she said and tried to tug him towards the main dining room.

“‘Go sit down’? Who are you? I don’t know you. I’m looking for my daughter, Janelle!!” his voice raised as he pulled away.

“Dad,” Janelle whispered with an edge of impatience. “I’m Janelle. I’m your daughter.”

“What?” He yelled.

“Yes, Dad, please. Let’s go sit down.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Ms. I need to find my daughter!!”

Robert marched back over to the bathroom with the triangle, passing by the mirror between the two doors, and caught a quick glimpse that halted him in his tracks.

Staring back at him was a wilted, creased face, nearly bare except for a wispy silver mustache and bushy eyebrows which were mostly grey but with a hint of faded black. Instead of the midnight-colored locs he expected to see, a dull, wrinkly cul-de-sac, lined with grey hair he probably could count each strand of if he chose to commit to that effort for the next two minutes, rested above. His thin-skinned neck hang a navy-blue strap that dangled a pair of reading glasses down his chest.

He didn’t understand what his eyes were seeing.

His confusion only grew when he then noticed in his reflection the woman he’d just been speaking with was wearing a turquoise dress, except — unlike the puffy cotton, ruffles, and lace earlier, this one was sleek, silk, sleeveless, and one-shoulder. This gown’s bottom half didn’t billow—instead, it bore a long slit which revealed toned legs and freshly pedicured toes resting comfortably in a pair of silver stilettos that nicely complemented her diamond necklace and earrings.

And his daughter’s favorite color. But not his daughter.

He didn’t understand.

“Dad, let’s go,” she repeated more forcefully.

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you, and stop calling me ‘Dad’!! I have to find my Janelle so we can get to the recital. Her mom is going to kill me if I get her there a second late!!”

“Dad..” the woman said. “Mom died 15 years ago.”

“What? What are you talking about, lady. My wife is on her way to our daughter’s recital from work, and we’re supposed to meet her there!! So, I need to find our daughter!!”

“Dad. Your wife—my mom—Barbara Jean Myers…”

Robert looked at her, stunned.

“…died…15 years ago,” she finished.

He took another step away from her. “How do you know my wife’s name? Have you done something with our daughter!??”

“Dad, please!” Her eyes began to well. “I know her name because she’s my mother, because I’m your daughter. I’m Janelle.”

“No…”

“Listen, Dad. Tonight is one of the biggest nights of my career. We were on our way to the awards banquet celebrating my making partner at my law firm. We stopped by here on our way because it’s been our little tradition to before any of my big events, since I was a little kid. Ever since that first recital.” She gently smiled, filled with mixed emotion.

“No….” he shook his head, still struggling to believe what he was hearing. “My little girl and I are supposed to meet her mother—”

“No, Dad. You and I are going to meet my husband, Tim, and my little girl, Janaia…at this banquet.”

“What are you talking about! My daughter isn’t even old enough to have a daughter!!”

Her index finger gently swiped under each of her eyelids. “I am, Dad. And I do.”

“Where is my daughter?!?” he asked and continued looking around frantically.

“Dad. You told me…if we were ever here and you…forgot…to point to that booth over there. Our favorite one we always sit in.”

A tear rolled down Robert’s textured cheek, as his eyes settled more deeply into hers for the first time since she’d passed back through that door with the triangular stick figure. They widened, finally beginning to see a familiar face. Janelle’s widened, too, mixed with excitement and relief.

“……..Barbara Jean?” he whispered, hopefully. 

Her eyes deflated again. “No, Dad. Janelle. I’m Janelle.”