Her Song (Florence Pugh)

Do You Want to Build a Snowman?

We quickly arrived at the museum, with Syd continuing to skip ahead of us. I have no idea why a five-year-old finds a museum so fun, but I'm definitely not complaining.

I briefly wonder why Florence isn't wearing a hat or sunglasses to conceal her identity, but she has this aura about her that makes her seem so normal. She's just so kind and approachable; if you didn't pay close attention, I doubt you'd notice that she's a famous celebrity. Her beauty could catch your attention from a mile away, but her personality is so warm and comforting— I can't even begin to explain it.

Syd stops in front of a painting, staring up at it in awe. We quietly come to a stop behind her, watching curiously as she takes in every brushstroke. Florence and I exchange a glance, silently asking each other what Syd might be doing.

"Momma, I like this one," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You do? What do you like about it?" I question.

"Well, it looks happy. If you just looked at it really quick, you see bright colors and smiles on those people's faces. But if you look closer, there are darker colors in the corners and none of their eyes look happy. The brushstrokes are harsher in the areas where people don't usually look— like that corner. They're all faking it. It's all pretend," she states without turning from the painting.

I stutter, unsure of what to say. "Are you sure you're five?"

"It reminds me of you," Syd concludes, ignoring my remark. Abruptly, she turns and walks down the hall to look at another display. I remain frozen there, staring at the painting and feeling like I might puke.

"Are you okay?" Florence asks, brushing my stiff arm with her gentle hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just caught off guard," I say, forcing a slight laugh.

"She's a smart kid," she says, cutting through the silence that had fallen over us.

"Yeah, she is," I agree, watching as Syd stood on her tip toes to read a display. "Don't know where she got it from."

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N. I hate it."

I shrug and laugh a little, unsure of what to say. Why  am I so damn awkward?

After walking through the rest of the museum, Syd asks to leave.

"Momma, I'm bored. Can we go to the park? I wanna show Florence the fishies!"

"Well let's go then," I reply enthusiastically, picking up her small body and putting her on my back to walk through the busy New York streets. It's safer and she has fun with it, so I figure it's the best solution.

As we walk down the sidewalk, singing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" without a care in the world, I spot Florence pulling her phone out. I stick out my tongue and make a funny face as she snaps a picture, giggling at the result.

"I'll get my revenge for that, Pugh," I warn her.

"Oh, I'm sure you will."

"Momma, keep singing!" Sydney demands.

Eventually we make it to the park, and thankfully there aren't many people here. Sydney runs, quickly leading us to our usual spot.

"Florence, Florence, come here!" she says excitedly, crouching down and peeking through the railing on the small bridge. I watch as they point out the fish in the creek together, giggling excitedly when a few ducks make an appearance.

"Momma, come here. Look at this one!" Syd points to a fish in the water that's swimming in circles. "I want it," she states.