Dad, please stop coming over, will you? Every time you go, Mum starts bawling and she doesnt stop until morning, Emily begged, her small voice barely above a whisper. I fall asleep, wake up, fall asleep again and shes still sniffling. I ask her, Mum, why are you crying? Is it because of Dad?
Mum just sniffles and says she isnt crying its just a cold, a runny nose. Im old enough now to know that a cold never sounds like a sob.
John, Emilys dad, was sitting at a table in a little café on Camden Street, stirring his coffee with a tiny silver spoon. The cup was already lukewarm, the kind youd get after a long chat. Emily hadnt even touched the icecream in front of her. It sat in a crystal dish, a little work of art colourful sprinkles topped with a fresh mint leaf and a cherry, all drizzled in chocolate.
Any sixyearold would have swooned over that, but not Emily. Shed decided, since last Friday, that she needed a serious talk with her dad.
John stayed quiet for a long while, then finally said, What are we supposed to do, love? Stop seeing each other completely? How would I live then?
Emily wrinkled her little nose it was as cute as Mums, a tiny potatoshaped button and replied, No, Dad. I cant be without you either. Heres an idea: call Mum and tell her youll pick me up from nursery every Friday. Well go for a walk, and if you feel like having a coffee or an icecream, we can sit in the café together. Ill fill you in on how Mum and I are getting on.
She paused, thought it over, then added, And if you want to see Mum, Ill record her on my phone every week and send you the videos. Sound good?
John gave his daughter a soft smile, nodded, and said, Alright, thats how well do it, sweetheart.
Emily let out a sigh of relief and finally took a bite of her icecream. But she wasnt done yet. When the colourful sprinkles left little whiskers on her nose, she licked them off, sat up straight, and looked almost grownup, almost like a lady whod soon have to look after a husband even if hes an older chap. Johns birthday had just been last week, and Emily had drawn him a big, bright 28 on a card at nursery.
Her face turned serious again, eyebrows furrowed, and she said, I think you should get married soon. She added, halfjoking, Youre not that old yet, are you?
John chuckled at the earnestness, You could say Im not that old.
Emily continued with gusto, Not that old, not that old! Look, Uncle Sergey, whos visited Mum twice already, even a little balding. She lifted her hand, smoothing the soft curls on the back of her wrist, then realised the secret shed just let slip out.
She pressed both palms to her mouth, widened her eyes in a mix of horror and confusion, and blurted, Uncle Sergey? Whos this Uncle Sergey that keeps popping over? Is he Mums boss?
John, a little startled, raised his voice enough for the whole café to hear, I dont know maybe hes a boss. He brings us sweets and a cake.
Emily hesitated, wondering whether to spill the rest that involved Mums flowers, while John stared at his intertwined fingers on the table, deep in thought. She sensed he was about to make some big decision.
She waited, not pushing him. She already suspected that men can be setintheirways and need a gentle nudge from the women they cherish most.
After a long silence, John finally sighed, lifted his head and said, Lets go, love. Its getting late, Ill take you home and have a word with Mum.
Emily didnt ask what hed say, but she knew it was important, so she kept licking her icecream. Then she realised whatever he was about to decide outweighed even the tastiest treat. She stuck her spoon into the table, slid off her seat, wiped the chocolate off her lips with the back of her hand, gave a little sniff, looked straight at Dad and said, Im ready. Lets go.
They didnt walk home; they practically ran. John led, holding Emilys hand tightly, as if she were a flag waving in the wind.
When they burst into the lift lobby, the doors slowly closed, taking a neighbour up to the top floor. John glanced at Emily, a bit flustered, then she looked up and asked, What now? Who are we waiting for? Were only on the seventh floor
John scooped her up, dashed up the stairs. When Mum finally opened the front door, John blurted, You cant do that! Whats this Sergey thing? I love you, and we have Emily
He wrapped both Mum and Emily in a big hug. Emily hugged them both around the neck, closed her eyes, because the adults were kissing.
And thats how a little girl, who loved both of them, helped two bewildered grownups find a way through pride and hurt. What do you think about all that? Drop a comment and give it a like.
