Charlie Days

Charlie Days



















By RGM





One







Carson's eyes roamed over the white tree, stark against the pitch-black sky. He slid his thumb down the side of his coffee cup.

“Daddy?”

Carson turned from the window to see Charlie standing in the doorway of the living room. She pulled on the front of the tshirt she had insisted on wearing to bed.

“You’re supposed to be in bed, Charlie. What do you need?” he whispered. He set down his coffee mug and padded over to her. She raised her hands and he hoisted her little self onto his hip. She was growing everyday, but she still was the smallest little girl in her preschool class.

Charlie fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. “I got scared. I had a, a dream.”

“What happened in it?” He carried her up the stairs carefully and slowly. All he could think was, don’t drop her, don’t you dare drop her.

“You took me to the park, and then went-went to the store, but you...You didn’t come back for me.” She stared

at the snowman nightlight in the hallway that she had refused to let Carson take down no matter how many times he tried to. It had became such a part of the décor by now that Carson sometimes forgot about it.

“Mm, that would be scary.” He switched her weight to just one arm, so he could get one arm free. He eased open her bedroom door. “But, that would never happen, sweetheart.”

“I know,” she mumbled into his neck where she had buried herself.

“And, I'm not your dad, Charlie.” At first Charlie didn’t say anything. He placed her on her bed, moving her stuffed animals in next to her, nestling them under her arms.

“I know.” She stared into her little hands. Little fidgeting hands. He couldn’t stop staring at them. The nervous energy.

She threw her hands out and cried, “But why? You pick me up from school, you hug me and make me feel better! You buy me polkie dot boots!” She threw her hand out and pointed. He followed her finger to her new, yellow with blue and green polka dots.