#FlashFictionMagic: Microscopic

 

“Okay, spit!” 

Grace deposits her toothpaste foam in the sink, then reaches for my hand. “When will Daddy be home again?”

“A couple more hours. By then you’ll be sound asleep.” 

“And you’ll be here?” 

“Of course.” I squeeze her fingers. We enter her bedroom. She climbs under the quilt. “If you need me, come downstairs.” 

Gracie nods. “Okay.” 

I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp. 

“Fern?” she whispers.  

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“I love you.” 

For a second, I’m stunned. I try to think of myself as just the babysitter, just the neighbor, maybe a friend. But you don’t leave a five-year-old hanging.

“I love you too, Gracie-Grace.” 

Under a microscope, I know the DNA would say otherwise, but as I lean over to kiss the top of Grace’s strawberry-scented head, I can’t help but believe that on some level, this little girl is meant to be mine.