#FlashFictionMagic: Woodland Creatures

Grace awoke in the middle of the night and blinked at the ceiling, wondering what had disturbed her. Then she heard it. Rustle, rustle, scratch. 

This was one of the uncomfortable familiar sounds of home: a mouse trapped inside her bedroom wall. It was a bit early in the season, so Dad probably just hadn’t called the exterminator yet. There was nothing to be done but to put in some noise-canceling earbuds.

Turning on the light and crossing to her desk, Grace dug through the top drawer looking for the earbuds she had stashed in there. As she searched, the rustling sound came again. Then there was a knock at the door. Dad or Fern? 

Bleary-eyed, she opened the door, only to immediately regret it. Not Dad. Not Fern. Ted. And he looked a little freaked out. 

“Hey,” he said, glancing surreptitiously into Grace’s room. “Do you hear that?” 

“What, the ghost?” Grace bit back a smile. 

“The what?” Ted’s eyes widened, and Grace snorted a laugh. 

“That was too easy,” she said. “It’s a mouse trapped in the wall. It happens every fall.”

“But it’s August.” 

“I don’t think mice use calendars.” 

Ted rolled his eyes. 

“What did you think it was?” This was the first time since they’d met that Grace had seen Ted frazzled, and she was enjoying it. 

“I don’t know,” Ted said. “I figured maybe your Dad. He’s up at night a lot.” 

“Dad?” Grace shook her head. “He sleeps like a log.” It irritated her how often Ted tried to show he knew her family better than she did, or how he just plain got things wrong about them. “It’s probably Fern you’re hearing. Pregnancy causes insomnia.” Grace had read this on the Internet, but it was probably true. 

“No,” Ted said, and Grace scowled, as the wall mouse gave a little scratch. “I run into your dad in the kitchen at midnight all the time.” 

“Well, having a stranger in the house probably puts him on edge.” Grace smirked, feeling triumphant that maybe she and her dad were both equally annoyed by this interloper. 

“I actually think it’s the baby,” Ted said. His matter-of-fact tone showed this was not an attempt to verbally best Grace, but it stopped her cold. 

“What’s wrong with the baby?” Was that why Ted was here? To help out because something was wrong? Why else would he know something like that when she didn’t? Panic rose in Grace’s chest.

 “Nothing!. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.  I just think it’s been kind of an adjustment for your dad to have a wife who’s pregnant.” 

“Why? It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.” 

Ted shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounds like maybe the last time around was… hard?” 

Grace scoffed. “I bet you wouldn’t say that about a single mom.” She realized she sounded like a girl in her psychology class last semester who always brought everything back to feminism. But she didn’t like what Ted was saying. “My dad did a great job taking care of me. Besides, we’ve always had Fern to help us.” 

“Which would make it especially hard on your dad if he lost her,” Ted said quietly. 

Grace looked up, right into Ted’s warm brown eyes. Why hadn’t she thought of that? And why was she softening to Ted? This family didn’t need his pity, or sympathy, or whatever it was he was offering. 

But Ted went on. “We were talking one night about your mom. I don’t even know how we got on that topic. But he mentioned her accident, you know, and how he thought the world had ended.” He paused for a second, and Grace realized she had never considered how her dad had felt in the moment when he learned her mom had died. Grace had lost the idea of Mom, the dream of her, but Dad had lost a whole person. 

“And you think he’s not sleeping because he’s afraid it’ll happen again?” 

“I don’t think he believes it’s going to happen,” Ted said. “I just think maybe he’s a little scared. Wouldn’t you be?”

She would, she knew that. Honestly, the thought of something happening to Fern had always haunted the edges of her mind, she just hadn’t allowed herself to entertain it because it was too awful.

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

“Your family is amazing, Grace,” Ted said. “And you are so good at getting your dad and Fern on the same page. I know he won’t talk to her about this, but I bet if you stopped sulking in here and talked to him, he’d open up to you.” 

“I’m not sulking,” Grace said, at which point the mouse made its loudest sound yet. 

“Sounds like our rodent friend disagrees,” teased Ted, and Grace found herself allowing a tiny smile. “Trust me,” he added. “Me being here isn’t going to ruin your family. All it’s doing is making me want to be as good a man as your dad.” 

“Well, good luck with that,” Grace said, but she couldn’t quite muster any meanness this time. What he’d just said, annoyed as she was to admit it, meant a lot. 

“I know, right?” Ted shook his head. “Big shoes.”  

The mouse rustled yet again and Ted jumped. “That’s not going to stop, is it?” 

Grace shook her head. “Here,” she said. “Put out your hand.” When he did, she placed her earbuds in it. “Use these.” 

“You don’t need them?” 

Grace shook her head. “Nah, I’m used to the quirks of this house. I’ll live.” 

“Thanks. And you’ll think about what I said?”

Grace swallowed any sarcastic remark she might have thrown back at him and simply nodded. 

They said goodnight, she turned out the light and climbed back into bed. As she drifted to sleep, two images floated in her mind: Dad, wandering worriedly through the house at night, and Ted, smiling at her, saying nice things and meaning them.