I stayat the National Cemetery for more than an hour in the rain, then drive to Eugene. After failing my two close friends and their families, standing in the heavy downpour didn’t come close to what I deserve.
The rain has stopped by the time I arrive at River Run Center—the mall where I’m hoping to get most of the things on Athena’s list. I remove my phone from the Explorer’s console and send Zara a text.
Me: Can you come over after work? There’s something I need to talk to you about before everyone else shows up.
It’s our weekly Friday Game Night with my brothers, Zara, Simone, Jess, and Emily. And while I’m in no rush to tell Zara what happened to Kenda, I can’t put it off any longer. I plan to tell my brothers tonight about Peony. Zara deserves to hear the news about Kenda’s death and about Peony from me first.
I climb out of the Explorer and shove my phone into my damp jeans pocket. My sweatshirt isn’t doing much better, but my clothes and sneakers are somewhat dry from the hour drive with the heater on.
I wander through the busy mall, searching for the stores I need. Asmall group of young mothers pushing strollers walks past me, chatting and laughing.
“I love that dress you bought Casey,” one of them says. “It’s adorable.”
I turn my head in the direction they came from and spot a kids’ clothing store—if the pint-sized clothes on the pint-sized mannequin out front are any indication.
I step into the store and feel as comfortable here as I did at the hotel when Peony started screaming. I quickly survey the area, a Marine in unfamiliar territory, getting the lay of the land, preparing for the worst, and knowing I’ll never be ready enough. One half of the store is a sea of pink, orange, and yellow. The other is a sea of green and blue. But that’s all I know.
If Peony wasn’t in desperate need of clothes and supplies, if Zara wasn’t at work, and if I hadn’t wanted to visit the National Cemetery on my own, I could have brought Zara here. She’d have a better idea of what the heck I’m looking for.
I’m the only man in the store. Probably also the only clueless person here when it comes to kids’ clothing—especially clothes for a little girl.
“Can I help you find something?” a woman asks from behind me.
I turn to her, checking her name tag as I do—Daphne. The petite, blond woman eyes me with sympathy, as if she knows this is all foreign to me—like I’ve gotten lost in the tampon aisle.Am I that obvious?“Where’s the toddler section?”
“Boy or girl? Or are you looking for something gender neutral?”
“Girl and gender neutral.”
She leads me to the pink-clothing side of the store. “These are our girls’ clothes.” She points to a section amongst the sea of pink, yellow, and orange. “Those are our gender-neutral clothes for younger kids.” She waves at the circular rack in the middle of the store. “What size are you looking for?”
“Size?” I shove my hand into my front pocket and pull out the list. The paper is damp and torn, the ink faded. I can’t make out much of what Athena wrote.Great.Guess I’ll be winging it after all.
“How old is the toddler?”
“Eighteen months.”
“I take it this is for a gift?”
“No. It’s for…for my daughter.” The moment the words are out, I want to snatch them back. Niece. I should have said they were for my niece in case she recognizes me…or in case Daphne recognizes my name when I pay for the clothes. I don’t need news I have a daughter being leaked on social media. It’s my choice if I reveal my fatherhood status and the time frame for doing that.
A smile twitches on the corners of her mouth, then smooths into a full out grin. “I take it your wife usually buys the clothes.” There’s a not-quite-there question in her tone.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“So, you’re looking for something your daughter can grow into.…Is she big or small for her age?”
I shrug.Hell if I know. “She’s about this big.” I demonstrate with my hands, but it’s hard to say for sure. I mostly have only seen Peony when she’s sitting or on Athena’s hip.
“It depends on if she’s potty training. Size twenty-four months fits diapers better. Size two if she’s potty training.” Daphne looks at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for me to answer the question I have no idea how to answer. I do know Peony is still in diapers.
“Is there specific clothing you’re looking for?” Daphne asks, seemingly unaware of my internal debate.
“Everything. All her clothes were lost in a fire.”
Sympathy flashes on Daphne’s face. “I’m so sorry. Did you lose everything in the fire?”
I shrug once more. “It changed my life completely.” That’s the partial truth. It was the mall shooting that turned my life upside down.
