The Stranger in the Mirror(46)

“Hmmm. I guess not,” she says, swinging her legs under the kitchen table and absently fingering a piece of apple.

Julian appears in the kitchen then, now wearing khakis and a button-down. This impromptu outing delights me, and as I look at both of them, my husband and my daughter, I think of all I would have missed if he hadn’t found me. How fitting that it was my love of photography that brought me back to my family.

I feel a happy buzz as we go to the car, but then what I feared begins to descend—the wooziness and numb feeling from the afternoon pill. That’s why I hate them, but I can tolerate the side effects better in the evenings. Besides, I don’t dare skip all my medicine; for now, at least, they’ve put a stop to the disturbing images that have plagued me for the past two years.





??39??

Cassandra




I watch with amusement as Valentina holds her doll—the one she’s named Hannah—in her lap and reads to her. After a few minutes she looks up from the book. “I’m Hannah’s mommy,” she says. “Daddy’s her grandfather, and you’re her grandmother.”

I laugh. “I know. I’m really happy to have a granddaughter.”

Valentina’s face turns serious. “How come I don’t have a grandmother?”

I feel my body tense. What do I tell her? It feels wrong to tell a seven-year-old that both your parents died in a fiery car crash, so you were raised by a series of strangers in different houses. I don’t want to frighten her after what she and I have been through already. When I think how close Valentina came to suffering the same fate as I—losing a mother—it makes me sick. I decide on a partial truth. “Daddy’s mommy is in heaven now. And my mommy is too. So you do have grandmothers, and they can see everything you do.”

“How can they see me, if I can’t see them?”

“Because we can’t see things in heaven. But everyone in heaven can see us.”

Valentina’s expression becomes serious. “Will you be in heaven when you’re a grandmother?”

I pull her onto my lap. “That’s a long way away, but I plan to be right here.”

“Good,” she says, and leans her head against me. “But if you ever go to heaven, you can take the book I made with you.”

I ruffle her hair and laugh as I look at the sweet little booklet she made in school today. There are four pages of red construction paper, and Valentina has drawn pictures of Julian, herself, and me on one of them. On the front cover she’s glued a photograph of herself.

“I will always keep this book. And as I said, I’m staying right here with you.”

That seems to satisfy her, and she begins reading aloud to her doll once again. She continues to occupy herself like this for a while, and I’m impressed at the expression and ease with which she reads books above her grade level. I still don’t remember the little toddler that Julian tells me I taught to read, but I have come to feel a very strong bond with my daughter, and that makes the lost memory a little less guilt-inducing.

When I hear the front door close, and Julian calls that he is home, I look at my watch and see that it’s five o’clock.

“Daddy’s home,” I tell Valentina as I get up from the chair. “Let’s go see him.” I take her hand, and we meet him halfway to the hall.

He scoops up Valentina with one arm and puts his other arm around me as we walk together to the living room. “How are my girls?”

“We’re fine, Daddy,” she says as Julian deposits her on the sofa and sits down next to her. “Guess what?”

“What?” he says.

“I have two grandmothers.”

Julian raises his eyebrows and looks at me. “You do?”

“Yes. They’re in heaven, but they can see me.”

He nods. “I bet they think you’re the coolest kid they’ve ever seen,” he says, and starts tickling her.

Valentina squeals in delight, laughing until he stops.

“So tell me about your day, little one,” Julian says, putting his arm around her, and I sit back and watch them as they talk. He is such a wonderful father.

When they’ve finished, Julian looks at me. “Our reservation is for seven. Shall I give Valentina her dinner while you go change?” It’s our anniversary, and Julian’s made plans for us to go out.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize how late it was. That would be great. I’ll go get ready.” I pick up the book Valentina made and take it upstairs with me.

Yesterday I stood in the walk-in closet in the bedroom Julian and I used to share, and was astonished at all of the beautiful clothes. I slid the hangers over one at a time, wondering where I wore these dresses, and whether I bought all of them, or any were gifts from Julian. I chose a red silk dress for tonight, and it’s waiting in my room now. I shower and dress, taking special care with my makeup and hair, and then slip on the dress. Immediately I can tell by the fit and the way it falls on my body that it is well-made and expensive. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I see a stylish, impeccably put-together woman. It’s a new look for me—or, I guess, an old one that I’ve forgotten.

The last thing I do is pick up Valentina’s book. As I flip through it once again, my heart swells with love for her. In her sweet little hand she’s written “You are the best mommy in the world. I love you to the moon and back.” I open the top drawer of my nightstand and place the book there.