Chapter 15

My tongue stuck out of the corner of my mouth as I fumbled with the last bit of hair. My reflection stuck out at me: two messy brown braids that looked more like tangled horse tails than anything Princess Leia would wear. Mama usually did my hair best, braiding them tight and neat with colorful ribbons that matched my new dress. But today, Mama wasn't doing my hair.

I peeked over at the closed bedroom door. I could hear Mama and Papa's muffled voices. The doctor had come earlier that morning, poking and prodding Mama, making her cough even harder. Mama looked really really pale too, like a ghost hiding under her blankets.

A frown crinkled my nose. Maybe if I did a really good job, Mama would feel better and come to the park with me. We were going to the opening of the brand new Park tonight! Slides taller than giraffes, a sandbox bigger than our living room, and a swing set that could launch you all the way to the moon – Papa promised!

The bedroom door creaked open and Papa's worried face popped in. "All done, Dolly?" he asked, his voice kind of scratchy.

I beamed, bouncing in my sparkly pink dress. "Almost! Just gotta tie the ribbons."

Papa kneeled down, his big hand brushing a stray strand of hair out of my eye. "You look beautiful, champ," he said, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He took a deep breath. "Listen, sweetie," he began, "Mama isn't feeling well enough to go to the park tonight."

My smile shrunk faster than a balloon with a hole. "But Papa," I whined, my voice wobbly, "Mama promised! We were gonna see the new swings and everything!"

Papa sighed, his face getting even sadder. "I know, honey, I know. But Mama needs to rest right now, okay?"

My whine escalated into a full-blown pout. "But Mama promised! We were gonna see the fireworks together!" Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill. The image of Mama, bundled in blankets with a disappointed frown, tugged at my heartstrings.

Papa sighed again, the sound heavy and laced with worry. "I know, sweetie, and I promise we'll have a park adventure another day, you, me and your mother. Besides, the news said there's a bad storm coming soon, with lots of rain and maybe even thunder."

I scoffed, wiping a stray tear with the back of my hand. "Uh-uh! Mr. Davis is always wrong! He says it'll rain every other day, and then the sun just shines and shines."

Everyone in our town knew Mr. Davis, the weatherman with a voice smoother than butter and predictions about as reliable as a leaky bucket. Only God knew why the news station still kept him around.

I peeked through the window, my lower lip still trembling. The sky was a deep blue canvas, splashed with a million twinkling stars. Not a single cloud dared to mar the perfect picture. "See, Papa? No rain! It's gonna be a beautiful night!" My voice held a hopeful lilt.

Papa sighed. "But sweetheart," he started, his voice laced with concern, "Your mother..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Undeterred, I crossed my arms and stomped one foot. I wouldn't be discouraged by a little storm cloud – or a sick mama, apparently. "Mama has to come! We promised we'd see the fireworks together!"

Papa stared at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. The worry lines around his eyes seemed to deepen. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he finally spoke. "Alright, alright, my Dolly wins. We'll see if Mama feels up to a quick park adventure."

My face lit up like a Christmas tree strung with fairy lights. A triumphant grin stretched across my cheeks, replacing the previous frown.

Papa chuckled, a warm sound that chased away the last traces of worry from his face. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, the scratch of his beard a familiar comfort. "Just finish braiding that beautiful hair, then go wait by the truck outside, okay?"

I nodded vigorously, already bouncing in my seat. Tonight, the park, the fireworks, and maybe even a seashell for Mama – it was all within reach thanks to my unwavering spirit.

The cool night air slapped my cheeks as I burst out of the house, the door creaking shut behind me. A shiver ran down my spine, quickly forgotten as I craned my neck to see the moon hanging fat and bright in the sky. Mr. Davis was wrong again, just as I knew he would be! There wasn't a single wisp of a cloud to spoil its glow.

But...something felt off. It was like a tiny pebble stuck in my shoe, a nagging feeling I couldn't quite place. The usual symphony of crickets chirping from the bushes seemed oddly muted tonight. I shrugged, dismissing it as nothing. Maybe the promise of fireworks and the park had my senses on high alert, making everything seem different.

Reaching Papa's old truck, I clambered up and onto the worn leather passenger seat. The familiar smell of dust and engine oil filled my nose, a comforting scent that always reminded me of adventures with Papa. My gaze drifted back to the house door, waiting for it to creak open and reveal Papa and Mama emerging, hand-in-hand.

But seconds ticked by, stretching into a minute, then two. A frown tugged at my lips. Maybe Mama was taking a really long time getting ready.

I tapped my foot against the floorboard, a nervous habit I inherited from Papa. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer. Leaning across the seat, I peeked towards the house. The porch light cast a warm glow, but the door remained stubbornly shut.