Frozen Dreams

“Lucy…in…the…” he lifted me higher with every word. “Sky!” he shouted as he threw me up, making me giggle, as any three-year-old would. He never failed to catch me.

“Again, again,” I squealed.

“That’s it for tonight, Lucy,” my dad said. “It’s time to brush teeth and read a story.”

It was one of my fondest memories of my dad. I also remember exactly when we became estranged. My mom passed away when I was 10, but that wasn’t what caused the rift. My dad had promised to get a car for me if I got all A’s my senior year of high school. I worked hard, even taking an advanced placement course in English Literature, scoring an A on that as well as every other class.

After the graduation ceremony, he handed me a shoebox-sized gift, wrapped in brown paper, on which he had pasted pictures of me at various ages.

“What’s this?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my disappointment.

He clasped his hands in excitement. “Open it,” he said with a huge grin.

That lead me to believe that perhaps there were car keys inside, but no, it was a music box. Worse yet, he knew that I hated the cold Minnesota winters, and this thing depicted a frozen pond with skaters poised on it. I opened the top, hoping car keys were in there, but it was empty. The craftsmanship was stunning, but it wasn’t what I wanted. It was as if all my dreams were put on ice. I thrust it back at him and yelled, “You promised to get me a car.”

He pleaded, “Lucy, just play the music. You’ll see…”

I interrupted, “I’m spending the night at Chrissy’s. Bye, Dad.” I slammed the door on my way out.

I never returned home, except to grab some belongings while he was at work.

I convinced my boyfriend to drive us to Arizona so that we could start a life together. We lasted two weeks in Phoenix, and then he drove off with another girl. I had to find roommates to afford rent, and I was working hard to make peanuts, but I was proud of myself for making it on my own. Three years later, I had saved up enough money to begin flight school, getting a loan for the balance. I got my pilot’s license and landed a job with Cooper Air. The Beatles lyrics my dad had quoted, “Lucy in the Sky,” weren’t lost on me. When I flew at night, I saw the stars as diamonds.

*

My fiancée, Richard, who is also a pilot, hands me the package which made these memories come to mind. It is covered in brown paper with my dad’s handwriting on it. There are no pictures of me on it this time. Inside, I find the music box, secured with bubble wrap, and a short note.

It reads, “Lucy, I’m proud of you for making a life for yourself. I never stopped loving you, and I never will, but I’m saddened that you haven’t reached out to me. Please fly back to see me before it’s too late. I’m home now, but I was hospitalized with a heart attack. Lucy, play the music box. You won’t be disappointed. Love, Dad.”

I put my hand over my mouth and tears are welling up.

My fiancée says, “Come on, Lucy, I think you’ve held this grudge long enough. I’d love to meet your old man. He should walk you down the aisle.”

I sigh and mutter, “fine.” I fix my eyes on the ceiling, as if Minnesota is up there. “You win, Dad.”

I tear off the bubble wrap and turn the key until it is tight and then push the button on the back. While the music, “Skater’s Waltz” by Emil Waldteufel plays, the skaters on the pond are mechanically spinning in circles. It really is impressive. When the music stops, a small, flat, hidden drawer opens on the bottom. Inside, is a check made out to me for $12,000, dated the day of my graduation. It would have been more than enough to buy a car that year. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. How could I have been so cruel?

I tell Richard, “It looks like we’re taking a trip to Minnesota.”

He nods and gives me a supportive hug. He then holds me at arm’s length by my shoulders. Richard smirks and teases, “At least it’s not winter.”