Chapter 16
The fireplace was lit again almost a year later.
Maisie asked.
Winter storm.
Cold house.
She stood in the lounge doorway holding my hand.
“Can fire wake?”
I looked down.
“Sure.”
We used the iron guard.
No one moved it.
The flames caught slowly.
Maisie watched from across the room.
Then sat on the ottoman.
June brought cocoa.
My mother sat nearby.
Nobody mentioned Celeste.
Good.
After ten minutes Maisie walked closer.
Not close enough to touch.
Just closer.
She stretched her hands toward the warmth.
My body tightened automatically.
She noticed.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Too close?”
“No.”
I forced myself to relax.
“It’s okay.”
She stood there.
Warm hands.
Safe distance.
Her choice.
I realized something uncomfortable.
For months I had treated the fireplace like an enemy.
It was not.
Celeste’s hands were the danger.
Gavin’s restraint.
Silas’s plan.
The fire had simply been there.
Objects become symbols because humans need somewhere to place memory.
Maisie apparently needed less symbolism than I did.
She finished her cocoa.
Then asked:
“Marshmallow?”
I laughed.
“Of course.”
We roasted one badly.
It fell into the grate.
Maisie found this hilarious.
The lounge became messy.
Warm.
May you like
Ordinary.
Exactly what healing should eventually become.
