Jazmine's Shoes

Michelle tied her daughter’s shoelaces for the last time, crying tears of joy. It had been three years of bottles and waddles and her black hair was stuck to her face by the wet of her mom’s kisses, and her cheeks were red from all the excitement, and she had chosen her own outfit: the furry pink jacket they bought her for last winter, a pair of blue jeans, and the white shoes the church donated. Michelle tried to keep her nose from running: everything was wet. There were grey spots on the shoes from Michelle’s tears. But they were otherwise unsullied: Michelle was in the habit of cleaning them frequently since Jazmine always put her feet up on the seat in front of her during car rides, usually covering it with dirt. Michelle stood back up, saving her last hug for later, trying not to think about it passing.

Michelle pulled the straps of her bag off the floor. It had her name in big Sharpied-on letters. The name they didn’t give her but held to their chest and nursed and kissed and cried for.

“Jazmine.” Her daddy finished filling her sippy cup with what she calls, “duce.” She instinctively pulled it to her mouth and sucked up her favorite drink. Michelle looked at her husband with her glass eyes, and he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her head and he felt her words on the side of his neck, warm and humid.

“I shouldn’t feel this way. Eric. I’m so sad.” She whispered so Jazmine couldn’t hear.

“It’s better that way.” Eric ran his fingers across her head and kissed her cheek. Jazmine knocked back her sippy cup, face toward the ceiling, holding it with both hands. That girl grabs everything with both hands, he thought; she grabbed us with both hands. She is the sweetest thing in my life.

These were the odd, scattered thoughts that came as he led her out the door, with her hand wrapped around his index finger. They carried her heavy bags for her. She had come with nothing, and now she was leaving with their hearts.

Despite this, Eric’s heart was full, like he was witnessing a miracle, like it was Christmas. He and Michelle walk her out to the driveway both with deep, aching smiles. When Jazmine saw her father coming out of the car in the driveway, she shouted with joy, and Eric and Michelle shouted with her.

Michelle felt like dancing around. She wanted to dance because she was finally a mother, and a mother to the most beautiful, most precious girl. It felt wrong to be so happy about Jazmine leaving, but she was going back where she belongs.

He came to all the meets and they got to know him slowly and fully; having a child in common made a deep bond even in short visits. He loved his daughter so much. They could see he had never been loved himself, and they got to watch him learn what it was like to love her. Eric knew she was going into safe arms. Jazmine started running toward her daddy as soon as they rounded the corner. He could feel her grip slide to the very edge of his finger.

The realization fully hit him, and he picked her up for a hug. One more hug. He held her for so long, and she hugged him back, completely comfortable with the man that became her father: her body limp, her arms wrapped around his neck. He kissed her on the cheek and put her down in front of Michelle.

Michelle knelt down on her knees and wrapped her arms around Jazmine, whispering something to her. She hugged her for so long, wiped her eyes so Jazmine didn’t see her crying, and kissed her cheek.

Her father smiled at Jazmine, and they all talked for a while. Jazmine stared at her father the whole time. She’s ready to be family again. Taking her hand, Eric knelt down now, and Michelle followed, and he said the final words to his daughter.

“I love you so much Jazmine. We will always love you, so much. You’re going to be with your daddy now. I’m so proud of you.”

It wasn’t the last time she would see Jazmine, but she will be gone from the soft day and the blue nights. But still, she was her mother; even for a time, or a moment, or a breath, but her mother. For life. Michelle took her hand and together with Eric slowly moved her forward into her father’s open arms. Her hands slid off their fingers, and she let go. Her daddy picked her up and hugged her, and Eric and Michelle wrapped their arms around him, and they all shook with their tears.

Eric backed up, looking at Michelle as she opened her eyes, and mouthed, “I love you.” They both stepped back as he strapped her into her car seat. She leaned forward and waved to them and said, “I love you,” in her small voice. The father kissed her head and thanked them one last time.

They waved as Jazmine pulled out of the driveway with her father. He turned down the road and they could only see her through the back windshield. The sight brought them the greatest joy for years later; her little shoes on the back of his seat, going home.