Julia

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Julia Page 8

by Marty Sorensen


  *

  Hugh heard a stampede of little feet and then a yellow blur ran past the door to his office. He slapped his knee and leaned back in his chair. “Elizabeth?”

  The footsteps stopped.

  “Elizabeth, come in and see me.”

  The footsteps started at a more measured pace and then a small hand held onto the door frame. A redheaded girl, a green ribbon in her hair, peeked around the corner and looked in with a serious face. She waited at that awkward angle.

  “Sweetheart come on and sit on my lap. I'm not mad at you.” Hugh turned his chair away from the desk and put out his arms.

  Elizabeth came running into the room and climbed up on his lap and laid her head on his chest. Hugh rocked her back and forth for a few moments and patted her on the head. She let out a long sigh and relaxed. Then she sat up and smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair, and put her hands out on the desk on the papers.

  “What's this, daddy?”

  Hugh laughed. “Oh, it's just some papers I'm working on, you know, Daddy's work, so we can pay the bills.”

  Elizabeth sat back again and put her finger in her mouth and looked around the room, tired and bored again.

  He looked down at her and picked up her little hand and held it warmly. “You know what? You know I don't care if you play with the ticker tape as long as you take it from the wastebasket. Will you do that for me?”

  She nodded, her fingers still in her mouth.

  He held her and made her sit up and twisted her to face him. “I have something for you. Of course, I don't have it just yet but I do have something for you. Would you like to know what it is?”

  Elizabeth clapped her hands together and smiled and looked up at him.

  He looked in her eyes and smiled back at her. “I love you very much, you are my wonderful little girl. You know we live just two blocks from Central Park, the best park in the whole world. And I have something there for you.”

  She took a deep breath and waited.

  “Okay, I can see you are impatient. I'll tell you what it is. It's a pony.”

  She screamed and jumped up and down and wriggled on his lap and put her hands over her face and said “Oh no, where will we put it? Can I ride it now? Where is it?”

  Hugh laughed and rubbed the top of her head. “It's in Central Park, Honey, we couldn't bring it here, it's too big.” He gave her a hug, pulled her head down to his chest and began rocking again. “A pony can't live in a house. It needs a stable with lots of hay to eat. And oats.”

  Elizabeth pulled herself away and looked at him, a puzzle on her face. “What are oats, Daddy?”

  “Oatmeal, Elizabeth, but uncooked. Horses love them, apples, too.”

  Elizabeth looked off in the distance, dreaming. “Let’s take apples to the pony?”

  Hugh began to recognize the children's infinite line of questioning. He picked her up and put her on the floor and held her hands and said, “Hold on a minute, my little cowgirl, we don't even have the pony yet.” He also realized he didn't have a good handle on children's reaction times. “All in good time.”

  “When, Daddy?”

  “I have to talk to the people in the Park, but I promise you next week.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “When?”

  Hugh frowned, knowing he had put himself in an untenable position. “All right, Elizabeth, I will call tomorrow. You can ask me then. Now run along and play.”

  Elizabeth smiled at him and ran off trotting like her little pony.

  Before she reached the door he called out, “Daddy’s little girl?”

  She turned back and nodded but kept on prancing out the door.

  Hugh leaned back in his chair, drummed his fingers on the desk and thought, “Hmmm. Yes. My little girl.”

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