Mothers Day

Mother's Day

She had mother's eyes, a beautiful azure flecked with silver. You could imagine a summer sky, birds flitting through the air when she smiled.

“Put those back where you found them, little miss.” I pulled Dani up in my arms and put on my best stern face as I pointed to the jar on the kitchen table, favourite bits suspended in a gel, a snow-globe in stop action. We kept Glory's rings, a necklace, a silver locket half-open, and tiny figurines of Pinky and The Brain, memorabilia of things that made her laugh and smile on days when she needed them most. I needed the reminders still and kept the jar by the window, my own special suncatcher.

“But, Daddy!” My little redhead in fuzzy princess pajamas pleaded with me.

“No buts, little miss.” She pouted while I tilted the jar for her. She rolled the eyes across the table, bouncing them on the open marmalade jar, a spoon stuck upright and forgotten. I nuzzled my daughter's cheek making bear sounds. “Who belongs to that spoon, Miss Dani?”

She squealed, squirming away from my sand-papery jaw, wriggling and giggling. “Daddy!”

“Well?” I wiped at a smudge on her cheek, sticky and orange.

“It's Mommy's. She wanted jam.”

“She did, did she? And then what happened?”

“We didn't think you'd mind,” almost a serious tone while she played with my collar, tugging on the button. I scooped the orbs and plopped them back into their jar, twisted the lid shut with one hand while Dani hugged me with her arms and legs.

I carried both girl and jar over to the sink and sat her on the counter. I entrusted the over-sized jar to Dani and grinned as she set it down carefully on the sill. She giggled and pointed. Pinky hung upside down in the zero-G of the gel. “Narf!”

I shook my head as I sat her at the table, while I cleared her breakfast away, “Sometimes, Pinky, you frighten me.”

She looked up at me, eyes bright with mischief. When she spoke, I heard Glory talking, asking me, “What shall we do today, Brain?”

I poured a cup of coffee, doctored it with a bit of sugar, and leaned on the counter, sipping. Dani knelt in the chair, leaning on the table, expectant of adventures. I blew across the mug, cleared my throat, and in my best Brain voice answered, “What we do every day, Pinky, try to wake up Mommy!”

She shrieked with joy, jumped and raced around the table and careened into my legs, crushing my waist in a ferocious bear hug. “Today? Is it today? Mommy wakes up today?”

Coffee sloshed, threatening to spill in her wild red hair, so like Glory's must have been at the same age. I set my mug aside and gathered Dani up again. She bestowed a marmalade kiss on my cheek and hugged my neck. I squeezed her small frame in reply and shifted her weight as I reached for my coffee. She took the cup from me, making it her duty to keep it safe. She pointed to the basement door as I fished the key from the chain around my neck.

As we descended, the low hum and whir of the machines welcomed us. Monitors glowed with data. Dedicated banks of processors lined the walls. I set Dani down, accepted my coffee back, and sighed, tired of waiting as I flicked the lights on. My little ball of fire ran to the tank at the far end of the room and stared, hopping from foot to foot.

Her auburn hair framed her face like a halo. She floated like Pinky in the jar by the window, in life-sustaining, life-nourishing, protein-rich fluid; eyes shut dreamless, oblivious of her visitors. Dani whispered in awe, pointing at Glory's fingers. They twitched an unseen scale, staccato chords in suspension. Careful as a mother with a newborn, Dani placed her small hand on the Plexiglas and made a wish.

We held our breath, me not sure what my daughter had wished; Dani wanting to see the magic happen. A blip of sound behind me caught my attention and I turned to investigate. All the monitors showed nominal readings, except one. I studied it, excitement bubbling in me as I cross-referenced the screen with others. A gasp from Dani made me turn back to see what she had found.

My little girl stared up into azure eyes flecked with silver. An adult hand inside the tank pressed against the glass mirroring the child's hand outside. As I watched, the two mouthed words to one another. I set down my mug and moved closer, studying the woman in the tank, watching my daughter. Blue eyes looked into blue eyes, older into younger, recognizing themselves in the other.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy,” the mantra continued as I stared into the tank. The woman in the tank mouthed the words back to the little girl. While I stood, lost, Dani tugged on my hand, pleading for my attention. She looked up at me, pleased and glowing with her discovery, “She called me Mommy!”

I ruffled her red hair and squeezed her hand as we both gazed into the tank. “I know. She's beautiful, isn't she? Even has her mother's eyes!” I heard Dani giggle.

“We can keep her, right? Her blue eyes widened with hope as I tweaked her nose.

“I think so. Let Daddy check a few things. You should go put on clothes if you want to fight crime, today” I pointed her toward the stairs and patted her butt to get her going. She rolled her whole head at me and turned grudgingly, laughing as she plodded up the steps.

I turned back to the tank, still smiling. Floating there, fear, anguish and pain obvious on her face, the woman pounded the Plexiglas, panicked, and mouthed over and over, “Not again.”

“Don't worry. I made us one big happy family, this time!”

CKK2020