by Nicole Deese
“Yes,” I encouraged. “Good job, Aria.”
Joshua stood at the foot of her bed, gripping the thick railing while a smile spread across his entire face. “Wow.” He looked from her to me, clearly impressed, and perhaps a little stunned for words, too. I’d come to recognize that response from people when they encountered her for the first time.
He turned his attention fully back to Aria. “You’re very smart.” He tapped his temple, stretching the words out slowly.
Though she’d heard that particular phrase from me many times, she squinted and tilted her head to the side now, as if processing it anew. From him. I was reaching for my phone to pull up the translation app when she surprised us by saying a sincere “Thank you.”
Again, his eyes widened in awe. I’d grown so accustomed to her picking up on new words and phrases over the last couple of months that the shock of how quickly she caught on to English had worn off a bit. And yet it ratcheted up again every time her social circle widened.
Joshua opened his mouth. Closed it again. And then chuckled as if he wasn’t exactly sure what to do next.
I tossed him a life raft.
“Here, why don’t you sit down? Take the recliner. It’s the only semi-comfortable choice for a guy your height. That rocking chair in the corner is brutal.”
He glanced around the room. “But where will you sit?”
“All I’ve done for the last few days is sit. I’d like to stand and stretch my legs a bit.”
Aria glanced between us, our words too rapid for her to catch, and yet I could tell her brain was processing something regardless. She pointed to the phone in my hand and then tapped her chin twice, our sign for needing the translator app.
I handed it over to her and then scooted out of the way, making room for Joshua to sit. And as he did, he picked up the sketchbook Aria had disregarded days ago on the side table. “Do you like to draw?” He mimed the action as he spoke, and she nodded once, studying him in earnest.
He flattened a hand to his chest. “Me too.”
She gestured at the sketchbook and then made a scribbling motion. “Jo-shu-a, draw?”
“Oh, um, sure.” His eyes shifted to mine, and I nodded, my heart expanding ten times inside my rib cage as I observed their exchange. Aria was often shy around new people, especially men, but whatever she saw in Joshua had lowered her usual caution to a minimum. Perhaps it was due to my close proximity to them, but perhaps it was something else. Something innately Joshua.
He flipped a few pages in her book, giving her previous artwork several compliments and a thumbs-up before stopping a moment on the sketch she’d drawn of us holding hands underneath a thick rainbow.
“Aria?” he asked, pointing to the shorter, dark-haired girl she’d drawn in a crimson dress and shiny black shoes with bows on the toes. She nodded in answer.
His finger trailed right, to the woman with the goldenrod hair and pale blue gown suited for a royal ball. “And this must be your mama?”
Aria nodded. “Pret-ty.”
“Yes, she is.” And though his focus never left the page, my neck prickled under his admiration.
He reached into the art tin and picked out an ebony-colored pencil. With short, quick strokes, he drew a shape on a new page, then spent the next few seconds shading in some of the white space. Aria kept trying to peek at the paper, but he’d pull the notebook higher and hold up a single finger, indicating she had to wait.
She beamed at me, giggling as if art peekaboo was her new favorite game. Anything that involved her smiling like that was my favorite.
At last Joshua flipped the picture around and she oohed and aahed over it, pointing for him to show it to me, as well.
“Panda,” he said, tapping the cute, plump panda bear he’d sketched for her.
“Pan-da,” she repeated, the da too soft to be heard.
“Hmm. What’s panda in Chinese?” he asked.
She tilted her head again, giving me a look that said she wasn’t sure what he’d asked. I tapped my chin, encouraging her to use the app she’d grown quite proficient with.
As soon as she held it out to him, Joshua spoke directly into the phone’s microphone. Within half a second, the translation was given and Aria was nodding in understanding.
“Xiongmao,” she said, answering his question about the Mandarin word for panda.
He tried it. “Xiongmao.”
She giggled and said it again for him. Slower.
He practiced three more times until his inflections matched hers exactly.
She gave him a delighted double clap, which was the most energy she’d expended since her surgery.
He bowed low. “Thank you. Thank you.”
After a few more rounds of playing Mandarin Pictionary on Aria’s sketchbook, where Joshua drew pictures and then asked her the corresponding word, he seemed to remember something he needed in his satchel. He opened the worn leather flap, reached inside, and plucked out a mini iPad. He powered it on, tapped the screen, and pulled up an app I didn’t recognize. All the while, Aria’s eyes never strayed from him once.
“I made something,” he said as if he were admitting something he wasn’t quite sure he should be admitting. Briefly, his glance flickered to me, before focusing once again on the screen. “It’s for Aria, but I can show it to you first if—”
“No, that’s okay. Go ahead, I trust you.” And I did trust him. Implicitly.
“Technically speaking, it’s still full of glitches and not even close to being ready for mass market, but I hoped it might brighten her remaining days at the hospital. One advantage is, it doesn’t require language to play.”
Curious, I leaned over his shoulder as he typed in the ID and passcode.
A white firework exploded on the dark screen, melting away the passcode page. Aria oohed as the screen shifted to an image of a hospital room and bed, much like the one my daughter lay in now. On the far left side of the screen was a column with every kind of wardrobe accessory imaginable. Wands, tiaras, fancy shoes, superhero shields, tool belts, etc. And standing in the middle of it all was an avatar that perfectly resembled my little warrior princess.
“What?” I breathed. “Is this the app you’ve been building for the hospital?”
He nodded. “The basics of it, yes. Aria will be our first official user.”
He turned the tablet to show her fully, and she immediately gasped and pointed to her healing chest. “Aria?”
A sob-like laugh escaped me. “Yes, sweetie. That’s you.”
“May I show her how it works?”
“Of course, yes.”
He wheeled the bed tray aside and handed Aria the device, stooping over her to tap on the screen and show how to move her avatar around the room, dress her in costume, and venture out into the obstacle course of a hospital she’d come to know too well for a child of nearly six. Every time her avatar leapt over a new hurdle to gather gems, coins, or diamonds to add to the treasure chest in her room, she exclaimed as if she were winning them in real life. But it was the sound effects of the game she seemed to enjoy the most—repeating certain actions over and over again and giggling to herself.
Joshua chuckled, obviously delighted by her responses.
After slipping my phone from the folds of blankets on Aria’s bed, I leaned against the counter at the back of the small room. I took several pictures of them together and immediately sent them to Joshua’s phone. Some moments were too precious not to capture. And as they sent, I saw Joshua’s missed text message for the first time.
Wow. This is the first text I’ve sent to you in five months. That doesn’t seem possible. But here we are, and it feels right that my first text to you should be about meeting your daughter. I’m glad to hear her recovery is better than expected. How are you doing? Is today a good day to visit? I’m free any time today until 2:00 p.m.
Yes, I thought, listening to a beautiful blend of laughter in the background. Here we are indeed. Five months later.
And though I had absolutely no clue where here was, or even if there would ever be a we to speak of again, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched two of my favorite people interact together, their only common language a unique connection they’d discovered all on their own. As Joshua tapped an icon that made a squirting sound, Aria melted into a fit of giggles I wouldn’t have imagined possible earlier this morning, and yet lately it seemed my entire life could be summed up in the impossible becoming possible.
“Knock, knock,” Dr. Brian said, pushing into the room, a weighty clipboard in hand. “Ah, I wondered who was causing all those belly laughs. Makes total sense now.”
“Hey,” Joshua said, straightening. “I was just showing your patient a few gaming tricks on the new app.”
“Seriously?” In a matter of seconds, Brian dropped his doctorly status and hightailed it to Aria’s bedside with the eagerness of a teenage boy. “You haven’t even shown this to me yet.”
“Well, you’re not even half as cute as little Aria is, so—”
“Whoa,” Brian said, ignoring Joshua’s comment and focusing on whatever Aria was causing her avatar to do. “This is seriously cool! Even better than you said it would be.” Brian popped his head up and spoke to me. “It’s hard to believe something so ingenious can come from a guy who dresses like that, right?” He hitched his thumb toward Joshua.
“Hey,” I said, pushing away from the counter. “Stop picking on his shirts. They’re a creative expression. Nobody tells you how to dress.”
Joshua’s eyebrows hiked at my defensive jab, and immediately my cheeks were aflame.
“Uh, have you met my wife? She threw out eighty percent of my wardrobe while we were still dating. I don’t even remember the last time I bought myself an article of clothing.”
We all laughed, and Joshua gave me a wink—a signature Joshua action, like his taste in apparel.
He glanced at his watch and surprise hitched his eyebrows skyward. “Oh, wow, it’s almost two already. I actually have to get going. I’m headed out of town for a quick trip.” He rotated to speak to Aria. “It was sure good to meet you, Aria Fei. And you should know, you have the best mama around.” Joshua laid a gentle hand atop Aria’s head, her uncomprehending eyes staring at him unblinkingly. “Good-bye, sweetheart.”
Joshua swept his satchel off the floor, slung it over his chest, and then tenderly gripped my elbow, leaning in close enough for our cheeks to graze. “She’s incredible, Lauren. Thank you for letting me meet her.”
Before I had time to respond, he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and moved toward the exit.
Aria’s face grew concerned. “Jo-shu-a bye?”
“Yes,” I assured her as he paused at the door. “He has to go bye-bye, but we’ll see him again soon.” The instant the words were out, I hoped they’d come true. “I mean, I hope we will.”
Hope knocked hard against my chest as his eyes lingered on mine for a second more before Brian blocked our line of sight and began his review of Aria’s latest scan reports, forcing my mind to switch gears entirely.
I never even heard the door close behind him.
“Got to admit,” Brian said, putting his clipboard down for a second time and adjusting Aria’s bed with the remote so it lay nearly flat. “I’ll miss seeing that guy around the hospital.”
“What? ” I asked, confused. “Who?”
As if the answer was as obvious as the reports he’d been reading from on his clipboard. “Joshua.” He pointed to the ties at the back of Aria’s neck. This was our routine, my job as mother-of-the-patient: untying her gown so he could check the sutures on her chest and update me on her healing progress. Only now my body moved stiffly, almost robotically, as my mind stumbled to process what he could possibly mean.
“Where’s he going?”
He loosened her collar enough for me to hold up the fabric as she laid her head back on the pillow, her eyes watching me intently.
“Dallas,” he said.
My insides twisted into one giant knot at his matter-of-fact pronouncement.
Aria whimpered a bit as he touched the inflamed skin around her healing scar, and I bent to kiss her forehead. “He’s almost done, baby. Just a minute more. You’re doing great.”
Brian let the gown settle back over her tender skin, and I tied the loose strings into a bow.
“What’s in Dallas?”
“A massive tech job,” he said while jotting some notes down. “With our mothership hospital. Pretty sure that’s where he’s headed now, for a final meeting to work out contract agreements. I told him not to forget the little people as he climbs up the nerd ladder. But really, an opportunity like that can be life-changing for a career like his. Couldn’t be happier for him. His brand of genius ought to be shared with the world.”
Brian retracted his pen and dropped his clipboard to his side, flowing easily from one subject to the next while I reeled over the idea of Joshua moving half a country away. “She’s looking great, Lauren. I’m really pleased with how her body’s healing. Another two to three days in here, and we’ll send her home with those recovery instructions we discussed.” He flashed Aria a thumbs-up on his way out of the room as if he hadn’t just plucked out a seedling of hope that had only just been planted thirty minutes ago. “Keep up the good work, champ.”
Aria returned his gesture, then pointed to the paused iPad Joshua had left for her on the bed. “More?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” I kneaded the area at the base of my throat and watched my daughter play on the creation Joshua had made especially for her.
Joshua is moving to Dallas.
Moving. To. Dallas.
The news diminished my hope that maybe what I’d witnessed between him and Aria could bloom with time. That maybe there was a possibility for us to . . . to start over, to begin a different type of friendship. But those possibilities were simply not meant to be, and I needed to be okay with that.
We’d only spent two hours together in the last five months. I had no right to feel disappointed or to question his life choices. Joshua deserved better than that from me. He deserved to be supported, championed, encouraged to chase after his dreams without any reason to look back. Hadn’t he given me the same gift when I’d needed it most?
I forced a smile on my face and snuggled up to my little girl, who was giddily waving a magical wand around her virtual hospital room. I kissed the top of her head and made a promise to love Joshua the same way he’d so selflessly loved us.
By letting him go.
chapter
thirty-four
Before this week, I hadn’t known what a blessing Meal Train could be, especially after five days of eating mass-produced hospital food. The online dinner delivery schedule Gail had organized within our small community had been a tremendous help, and one less thing I had to think about as we made the transition back home. However, the serving sizes delivered each night had more than exceeded what any woman-and-child duo could consume in a week, much less in a single evening. I’d run out of places to store 9x12 lasagna pans, porcelain casserole dishes, and all of the snap-lid containers once filled with salads, pastas, and every kind of loaf bread known to Pinterest.
Whenever possible, I gave away the leftovers—to neighbors, to friends, to the mail carrier who didn’t blink twice when I handed him a paper plate of blueberry muffins in exchange for my daily mail. But while my kitchen counter resembled the aftermath of a cooking competition on the Food Network, it was impossible to see the extra dishes as anything other than a reminder of God’s promised provision for my little family. He’d asked me to trust Him, and when I had, He’d given back tenfold what He’d asked of me.
I peeked under the lid of a steaming pot of dumplings. The aroma filled my kitchen and my heart as I thought of the hands that had prepared such a kindness for my little girl: Melanie and Peter Garrett, the couple I’d met at the adoption group last fall.
I’d been surprised to receive the text alert when the Gar
retts had signed up to bring a meal over tonight, but even more surprising was that the Melanie I’d encountered last November and again around Christmas, the one who once shot ice daggers from her eyes and bolted from the support group mid-discussion, was not the same Melanie who showed up on my front porch with my daughter’s favorite meal tonight. Gone was the bitter edge to her voice and the air of resentment that had once encircled her. In their place was an empathic woman who’d been reformed from hardship and refined by love. She thanked me again for folding their laundry that day in December and gave me an update that brought tears to my eyes. Their adoption had finalized the same month I’d been with Aria in China, although she didn’t credit the adoption certificate for the massive changes in their home; she credited their new church community and the Cartwright family in particular.
I’d given her a hug and asked if we could stay in touch, get our kids together for a playdate once Aria was fully recovered, and she had readily agreed. God was full of surprises.
I secured the lid on the steel pot once more and rose up on my tiptoes to glance over the counter at a snoozing Aria. She’d fallen asleep on the sofa while I was visiting with Melanie at the front door. My daughter’s arm was draped over her eyes like an aristocrat on a fainting couch. She hadn’t eaten dinner, but her tummy was likely still full of animal crackers from all our errand running today. I sighed and contemplated how I was going to get her upstairs to her room. Aria was a petite child, but sleeping weight was difficult to manage no matter the child’s size when it meant hiking a full flight of stairs.
Skye bolted upright, leaping off the sofa from her place at Aria’s feet. She pressed her nose against the narrow window next to my front door, whining and scratching and carrying on. Odd. She never acted like that.
“What’s up, girl?” I crossed the living room. “What do you see out . . .” But my words trailed off as soon as my gaze registered what—or who—had provoked such a spontaneous bout of excitement from her. Joshua had mentioned he had something to give Aria from his family, so perhaps whatever he was hefting out of his trunk was just that—a gift delivery. Only I knew it wouldn’t be his only reason for coming tonight.