June 23, 2002 [20]

Martha shaded the gray with purple. What had begun as random streaks of black and gray paint had evolved into a face. As in Paris, it was her mother's, she'd decided. The incidental smudges became her downtrodden features as Martha slanted a jawline to frame them.

"That's really pretty, Mommy," Serafina said, standing next to Martha and in front of her own easel.

"You think?"

"Uh-huh. It looks like a rain cloud. And our farmers sure could use some rain."

Martha regarded the painting and considered her daughter's interpretation. Unburdened with generational baggage, she'd assumed it was natural, honest, alive and full of possibility. Martha's burden was on clear display, however. Somewhere in her subconscious, her mother's unblinking gaze still held real estate.

She'd yet to make a second attempt to reach her mother in the family portrait. Perhaps she would in another life. Perhaps not. Regardless, that was in the future and her mother, the past and so neither held relevance in Martha's conscious mind. Serafina had made sure of that.

Because everything with this girl was present tense. Momentary joys were miracles; momentary obstacles, disasters. Most importantly, nearly everything was new to her – her first taste of ice cream, the first time a fluffy dog licked her face, her first trip to the doctor's office – and the shots... oh, the look of betrayal she gave us. It had been so long since life had felt new to Martha and James that their daughter's joie de vivre was like the aforementioned rainstorm following a century of drought.

"Thank you, sweetie. Yours is quite beautiful," she said, pointing at Serafina's easel. "Is that a ladybug?"

"Uh-huh," Serafina said as she filled in one of the giant black circles on the insect's wings. "A daddy ladybug. A daddy ladybug on the way to the grocery store."

"Oh, a daddy ladybug?"

Because of course a daddy ladybug...

Maybe it was because she'd briefly wished for a boy back when she was first pregnant. Maybe she'd been projecting anxiety toward her own mother onto her daughter, thereby pushing her away. Or maybe was it random; a flip of the coin. Whatever the reason, Serafina was a daddy's girl, through and through, no doubt about it.

Presently, she began to add high arching antennae to the daddy ladybug. Martha decided to play with her daughter's interpretation of her mess of gray by adding hints of sunlight and vegetation. She left the easels for the corner of their converted three car garage where the paint cabinet stood.

After the fall, while Martha was still recovering in the hospital, James had traveled back to their cabin to retrieve their things, leaving their Eden behind for good. When she was well enough, they'd found a three bedroom bungalow in South Pasadena, two blocks from PeePaw's house. It hadn't been easy to abandon their dream. But living off the grid, communing with nature, and any other grandiose plans they'd envisioned were ultimately trivial when compared to losing Serafina.

Thankfully, the girl appeared to have no memory of her mother's near-deadly fall, or of anything else from their time there. They still owned the land and had, at one point, intended on using it as a vacation cabin. But as of yet, they hadn't made it back. Martha wasn't ready to relive that memory. Nor was James. Perhaps they never would be.

Martha found the paint she was looking for and headed back to the easels. The garage had taken the place of their quixotic field, if perhaps on a smaller scale. In addition to the easels for painting, there was a broad lego table featuring the streets of Mos Eisley, the hills of The Shire, the winding path through Candyland, and at its center, a replica of their home. Along the wall, there was a mirror and bar for ballet and in the corner, an ever growing library with bean bag chairs for story time. Two things it didn't have were exposed rebar and a tree on which to climb above.

She returned to the easels and began adding the new colors to her palette. Without provocation, Serlafina began, "Hannah has a hamster. It's name is Chunky because it looks chunky..."

"I remember you telling me that..."

"...It's really fluffy and has white and yellow fur."

Hannah lived across the street and had been Serafina's best friend for half her life. The glee her friendship inspired was something unique from what Martha and James seemed capable of giving her. Martha wasn't jealous, but humbled. They couldn't be her whole world no matter how much they wished to be. And it had been selfish to think they could keep her to themselves.

As such, they planned on enrolling her at the local public school for kindergarten this fall. Martha was beside herself in anticipation. Will she cry? Will I? But that was months away. Of far greater importance to the Princess of the Present: Hannah had a hamster!

"...And you can only pet it on the back or on the tushy because it has teeth – sharp teeth that bite. It didn't bited me but it bited Hannah and she cried. I didn't see her cry but she told me that she cried when it bited her." They heard the front door open and close. Serafina's eyes went wide. "Daddy!" She turned and ran to the garage's interior door.

"Slow down, Sera," Martha called after her. "Do you have paint on your hands?"

"No," she responded, wiping them on her shirt as she ran.

Martha dropped her brush in its jar and left to follow, wondering how long it took for a phase to stop being a phase...

Through the wall, she heard, "Ser-Bear!"

Serafina giggled then said, "What did you buy at the grocery store, Daddy?"

Martha walked out of the garage to find James standing just inside the front door, holding their daughter. "I got lots and lots of yummy food that will help you grow and grow and grow until your head bursts through the top of our roof!"

Again, she giggled and said, "My head will not bursts through the top of our roof! That's too silly, Daddy."

"You're right. You're right," he said, scrunching his face comically. "Plus, I bet that would hurt." He turned to Martha then kissed her. "Hey hon."

"Hey," she answered and felt her world come to equilibrium. "Need any help?"

"Nah. It's just this and a couple more in the Jeep," he said motioning to the bags of groceries he'd set down to pick up their daughter.

"What'd you get? What'd you get?" Serafina repeated.

"Food, Ser-Bear. Yummy food. Hamburgers for tonight and..." He looked at Martha. "No sweet potatoes, though. They didn't have much and what they had were... sad and no longer yummy."

"Awww," Martha said. "I was going to make sweet potato fries. Well... I could substitute with turnips..."

"Oh no. Oh no," Serafina objected, shaking her head sadly. "Turnip fries are not yummy."

"What? I love Mommy's turnip fries," James said to spare Martha's feelings.

"It's okay," Martha said. "No turnip fries. We'll figure something else out."

"Good," Serafina said before gasping dramatically. "I'm making a painting, Daddy! It's a painting of a daddy ladybug." She squirmed briefly and he set her down. "But it's not done painting yet." She ran back into the garage.

Martha looked at James and sighed.

He smiled and said, "I really do love your turnip fries."

"No you don't. Neither do I. Maybe it's time to give the turnips a rest."

"Maybe," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Hey, I had an idea at the store."

"Uh-oh."

"Ha-ha. Seriously, the week after next, we should drive to the Grand Canyon. Can you imagine what she'd think of it?"

"That would be pretty amazing," Martha conceded. A picture of an astonished Serafina standing before the seemingly limitless vistas popped in Martha's head. "What should we-"

A small crash came from the garage. Martha turned toward the noise and then back to James with a face that asked, What now? James smiled and she kissed him one last time before leaving to investigate.

Serafina squatted beneath her easel as she scooped fallen brushes back into their jar. "I'm sorry," she said as Martha approached. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up."

"That's okay, sweetie. Accidents happen." Then Martha noticed Serafina's painting. From one of the ladybug's spots, a black line of paint cut down through the red of the bug, then the green of the grass all the way to the end of the canvas. It was askew the four lines she'd already painted for the insect's legs and entirely out of place. "What did... Did something..."

Serafina finished gathering the brushes and replaced the holder. Then she looked up at her mother with frightened eyes.

"I'm not upset, sweetie..." Martha said, but Serafina ran out of the garage without a word. "Sera... Is something wrong?" She looked back at the painting. It was a mistake so glaring it looked intentional. Had Serafina made a smaller mistake and then lost her temper? Was it something Martha had done? She'd called it 'beautiful.' Was that a mistake? Did she put too much pressure on her? Or was it Martha's reaction to the ladybug being a daddy? Had she projected resentment? Or maybe it's just a five year old with a short attention span. Not everything requires a panic spiral, Martha.

"Okay. Okay," she heard James say from the kitchen. "What's your rush, Ser-Bear?" Martha left the garage again and saw Serafina pulling him by the hand to the couch in their living room.

"I have something to show you," she said. Once James was seated, she grabbed Martha's hand and pulled her there as well. "You too, Mommy." Then she ran into the kitchen.

"What do you think this is about?" Martha whispered.

"I don't know... Some kind of performance?" James guessed. "Interpretive dance maybe?"

"Or an animal impression?"

"Ooh, I hope so. Her llama was on point." They heard indiscriminate noises coming from the kitchen. "You need any help in there, Ser-Bear?" James called.

"No thank you," she replied. "Just getting a prop."

Martha raised her eyebrows and whispered to James, "A prop?"

"This is getting serious," James joked.

Serafina walked out from the kitchen, now holding something behind her back. She settled in front of her parents, still concealing her prop. Having grown out of her baby fat, Serafina had come to resemble a real-live human being, if adorably shrunken in half. She was a dead ringer for Martha at that age in every way but her eyes. Those were her father's hazel and in them, Martha saw the same fear she'd seen back in the garage. It was more than fear, however. Something... familiar...

Serafina shifted her weight and seemed to adjust whatever she was holding behind her back. Martha asked, "What do you have there, sweetie?"

Serafina stood motionless.

Suddenly, Martha's imagination pounced. Serafina had walked into the kitchen, used a chair to reach the counter, then pulled the knife that she now held behind her back. Why would she do that? Is it innocent? Does she think it would make a funny prop? Or does she mean to hurt us? Or herself? How could we have been so careless?!

And then Serafina revealed not a knife...

...but a can of 7up.

Martha frowned. "I don't get it... What's that for, sweetie?" She chuckled and turned to James.

But he wasn't laughing. His face was frozen – eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock. She turned back to their daughter.

Serafina searched the ground nervously as she held the can of soda with both of her tiny hands. "It's... It's for you, Mom. I thought it might help with... your panic attack." Then she looked into her mother's eyes and Martha saw it – the torment and exhaustion no five year old could possibly hold. "Because you always have a panic attack..." Serafina continued. "...whenever we have this conversation."

Martha felt numb as the room began to tilt.

"Dad?" Serafina said. "If she faints you're going to have to catch her."

Her vision flared white and gold.

"I'm too small to catch her, Dad. Dad! Snap out of it!"

The white and gold collapsed.

"There she goes!"

The floor raced up to meet her as Martha's world turned black.

Author's note:

And thus ends Drifting Along the Infinite Spring!  I can't thank you enough for reading it!  It was a blast to write and I hope you enjoyed the continued adventure of Martha and James. 

But what of Serafina?  How did this happen?  What have we missed?  Where will her inclusion take the now trio of immortals?  Look for the first chapter of A Kiss Goodnight at the End of Forever sometime this September!

I cannot express how grateful I am to you for giving my story your time!  You are all so very less than three.  <3 <3 <3

(Sorry for the emoticon/math dad joke!)