Gwendolyn
I open my eyes and see a pair of gorgeous green ones staring back at me. I hold my breath and bask in the attention Kelsey is giving me by simply looking at me. To anyone else, it may be a small thing, but coming from her, it’s everything. Kelsey doesn’t look at people unless she has to. I think it’s because she’s worried her pain may shine through enough for people to see. I miss looking into my daughter’s eyes. They are the prettiest green I’ve ever seen.
I feel a twitch on my hand and out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand lying in the palm of mine. My hand is palm up, so she placed her hand in mine. This lightens the pain in my heart. I push back the threatening tears and just lie there for several minutes, staring at her. She doesn’t move her eyes from mine and gives no other sign of how she’s feeling.
“Hey, beautiful,” I whisper, and smile softly at her.
Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine, but she stays unmoving.
Gently, so as to not startle her, I reach up and lay my hand against her soft cheek. My love for her and my motherly instincts have me wanting to pull her forward into my arms to simply hold her. Every night while she prays for God to bring her dad back, I pray that he’ll bring my daughter back.
Her hand moves in mine, and I wrap my fingers around hers, then push her hair back behind her ear.
“I love you, Kelsey. I miss hearing your sweet voice so much,” I say tenderly. “Will you let me hear it?”
I hold my breath, praying with every fiber of my being that she’ll open her mouth and say something. When she just lies there, her eyes still on mine but giving no indication she’s going to talk, my heart sinks.
The bed moves slightly, and before I’m ready to let her go, Kelsey’s rolling to her back, dislodging my hand, then sitting up. Daniel takes her place and bounces to the middle of the bed. I’m not sure how it happened; when we went to sleep last night, he was in the middle of the bed with me and Kelsey on the outsides. I’m hoping it was Kelsey that moved to the middle because she wanted to be by her momma.
“Hey, kid.” I grin and ruffle his hair. He giggles, and I throw my arm around his middle and drag him to me. Dipping my head, I growl into his stomach, causing him to burst out into laughter. Hearing the sound loosens the knot in my stomach.
When I pull my head back, he leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Mama.” Not waiting on me to reciprocate, he crawls from the bed.
“Wait for me,” I call when he goes to the door to open it. Since we all slept in our clothes last night, I get up from the bed and head straight to the door. Daniel’s bouncing on his feet with his legs crossed in true I-have-to-pee fashion. Kelsey’s already standing next to the door when I get there.
While Daniel is in the bathroom, Kelsey and I walk into the living room. My eyes immediately go to the couch to see it’s empty, the blankets neatly folded at one end with the pillow on top. I look around and still don’t see Alexander. I notice his boots, which were at the door last night, are gone, meaning he must be outside.
I bite my thumbnail, contemplating whether I should make something for breakfast or wait to see if he comes back. After a minute, I hear Kelsey’s stomach rumble, and make my decision. I lead her to the kitchen, where she sits at the bar. I spot my purse on the counter and grab my phone from beside it. Still no signal. I blow out a breath and set the useless thing back down.
Turning to the fridge, I rummage through it and pull out a carton of eggs. Next, I go in search of ingredients for pancakes, and smile when I find them. It really does feel strange going through someone else’s cabinets and fridge. I hope Alexander doesn’t mind.
I turn to Kelsey. “Pancakes and eggs sound good to you?”
She gives me a barely noticeable nod, and I set to making the batter. Daniel comes bounding out from the hallway, briefly looks to the living room, then skids to a stop at the end of the bar.
“Have you seen Gigi?” he asks, excitement in his eyes.
I dump the flour in the mixing bowl and crack open an egg to do the same. “No, but I’m sure she’s probably out with Mr. Alexander and will be back in a few minutes.”
He looks disappointed as he walks to the barstool and takes a seat. I finish putting the rest of the ingredients in the bowl before pushing it, along with a spoon, over to Kelsey.
“Mix that for me, please?”
As her way of acknowledging my request, she grabs the spoon and slowly starts pushing it around the concoction, her eyes focused on her task. After cracking open several eggs and putting them in a bowl, and adding a bit of milk, I push that toward Daniel.
“You get to beat the eggs,” I tell him. When he grabs the whisk sitting in the bowl and starts stirring too fast, I add, “Gently, or they’ll slosh out the sides.”
With both kids occupied for a few minutes, I take the opportunity to use the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back,” I let them know before heading back toward the hall.
I do my business, flush, and wash my hands. Running my tongue over my teeth, I feel the fuzz and wish for a toothbrush. I open the medicine cabinet, hoping to find at least some toothpaste or mouthwash, and come up empty. The cabinet is pretty bare, only carrying a bottle of aspirin and a comb. I wrinkle my nose. One thing I hate is having a mouth full of fuzz.
Remembering seeing a bathroom in Alexander’s room, I wonder if I’m brave enough to trespass in there to look for some mouthwash. Desperate for a fresh mouth, I decide to go for it.
I feel like a thief getting ready to break into a house when I peek my head out of the bathroom. Spying the kids at the counter mixing the contents in their bowls and still no sign of Alexander, I walk on tiptoes down the hallway toward the master bedroom. I leave the door open and rush to the bathroom.
This bathroom is a lot bigger than the one in the hallway. While it’s not huge, it’s a lot bigger than you would think considering the size of the bedroom. But it’s beautiful with its rustic look. Cream-colored walls, pedestal sink, claw-foot tub, and separate shower. It fits with the rest of the cabin.