Saturday, August 18, 2012

The Speech: Part 4


 For the integrity of the piece, please read "The Speech" parts one, two and three found in the past three posts. Thanks!
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     In the morning, Lucy woke up first. Mac awoke to her four-year-old bouncing up and down on the bed, giggling and shouting, “Today’s the day!” at the top of her lungs. When she noticed that her mom’s eyes were finally open she plopped down in a belly flop right next to her.

     “Today’s the day, Mommy,” she reiterated.
     “You’re right, Luce. Today’s the day.”
     “Can I put on my new dress now?” Lucy asked, a smile crawling across her face.
     “How about we eat breakfast first, then you can put on your pretty dress. Sound like a plan?”
     “Yes!” Lucy replied, as she jumped off the bed and ran to the kitchen.
     Mac stayed still for a few seconds more, staring at the ceiling. If Matty were here he would tell her that everything was going to work out perfectly. He would kiss her on the forehead and slide off the bed to follow Lucy before she made a mess with the cereal. ‘You can do this,’ she told herself, taking a deep breath. And with that she took Matty’s cue, climbed out of bed and ran to the kitchen just in time to stop the Rice Krispies from covering the floor.
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     One much needed shower later Mac was almost ready to go. Lucy was watching TV downstairs, already having been in her dress for at least two hours. She slipped her favorite black dress on carefully and did a last minute check in the mirror. After applying her lipstick, she caught a glance of a picture of Matty. It was her favorite picture, and it had been on her dresser since they had lived in this house. He was wearing a plaid button down and Levi’s, work boots peeking out in the overgrown grass. He was laughing, leaning up against the fence in his parent’s backyard.
     They had been at his parent's farm taking engagement photos. Matty had reached the fence first, pushing his way through overgrown weeds and neglected plants. Mac stopped, watching him.
     “Well, are you coming or what?” Matty had asked, laughing at the care with which Mac was choosing her footsteps.
     Don't push me, Matty. I'll get there when I get there, okay?” Mac said, navigating around a grouping of wild daisies dancing in the wind.
     The photographer had taken a few shots of the exchange, capturing this photo in the bunch. Mac had ordered a print of it without Matty's approval, and it had been on her dresser ever since.
     She picked up the frame and slid it into her purse, right in between her wallet and her note cards. As Mac walked down the stairs, purse in hand, she heard a small gasp. There, at the bottom of the stairs, was Lucy.
     “Wow, Mommy. You look pretty!” Lucy said, twirling in her red tulle tea dress.
     “You look pretty cute yourself,” Mac replied, kneeling down to her level. “Do you remember what I told you?”
     “Yes, you said, ‘sit still and listen.’”
     “And…”
     “And…”
     “It’s alright to cry,” Mac said, pulling her daughter in for a hug.
     “Oh yeah; it’s alright to cry,” Lucy echoed, squeezing her mom right back.
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