As He Did Every Night

A Short Story

Seven-year-old Dulcie hiked her oversized Star Wars t-shirt above her knees so she could climb up onto the chunky wooden chair at the dining table. Settling into the oversized seat, she pushed her golden curls out of her eyes and resting her elbows on the table nestled her chin into her palms. She watched her dad at the stove as he artfully flipped griddle cakes into the air. They spun twice then slapped back down into the cast iron pan. The scent of warming strawberries and vanilla wafted to her little nose making a huge smile burst onto her sleepy face.

"Good morning, Daddy!" She chirped.

The large figure turned from his cooking, skillet in hand, to see her sparkling blue eyes and wide smile—with its recently missing front tooth—fixed on him. "Good morning to you, my little finch. Did you bring your hearty appetite along to the table this morning?"

"I sure did."

"That's a good thing because I made your favorite!" He set a plate filled with strawberry griddle cakes and a pile of fruit in front of her, before wrapping his brawny arms around her for a gentle hug.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I did."

"Did you have sweet dreams?"

"I did! I dreamed about having a pony of my very own and I named her Geneviève. And she was spotted and had the longest mane and tail ever. And she could talk to me!"

He ruffled her already sleep-tousled hair, and releasing a hearty laugh returned to his cooking duties.

Her daddy was bigger than most of the other dads she knew. He was super tall and had massively wide shoulders and thickly muscled arms, and he could toss her into the air and catch her again so easily. She was never ever afraid he would drop her. And in the sunshine, he left an enormous shadow she liked to try to trap with her toes as she followed behind on their woodland walks.

Dulcie loved his laugh. It was deep and robust and rumbled in his chest. The sound never failed to make her happy.

"Well," he paused as he loaded up a platter with his own helping of food, "a pony which talks is a fine thing indeed." He sat in the chair across from her; his body a much better fit to the overly large dining chair than hers. "Close your eyes tight, and no peeking."

His little finch did as she was told, giggling and squirming as she scrunched her eyes closed tightly, because when her daddy told her to close her eyes tight, it always meant a surprise was coming.

"Okay, you can open them now."

She did as she was told and discovered a fluffy, spotted plush pony now sitting in front of her plate.

"I know it's not your dapple dream pony, and this one doesn't speak, but—"

"Oh!" Dulcie squealed. "I love her, Daddy! Where did you find her?" She hugged the stuffed toy to her chest, testing out its squishability.

"The family I work for, well, their kids are all grown up, more or less, and they were sorting out some older toys for charity...I saw this girl and new she was for you."

Dulcie tumbled, none too gracefully, from her chair, ran around the big table, and tossed herself against her father's legs. He scooped her up and she threw her arms around him—or tried; her little arms barely made it halfway around him. But she still hugged him for all she was worth.

"Why don't you eat up your brekkie and then we'll go down to the creek and see what we can see." Her dad set her gently down onto kitchen the floor.