Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
“Hey there, little darlin.’” I turn the music down and step closer to peer behind her, looking for the adult this tiny stray human belongs to. Sometimes, people randomly stop by the studio—wanting to buy a sculpture or to pick my brain about how I do what I do. But no one else is there.
“Hello,” the little girl says in a soft voice.
Smiling, I kneel in front of her. “What’s your name?”
She looks up at me, and my chest clenches like a fist has taken hold of it. Her eyes are just like Brianna’s, the exact hue of green, with the same shimmery glints of gold.
Clasping her hands behind her back, she says, “My name is Penny Rose.”
I raise my eyebrows, acting impressed, and glance over at my wife, who grins with amusement. “That’s a beautiful name,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Penny Rose. Are you here with your parents?”
“No.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m six right now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t before.”
She’s too cute. “Are you lost?”
She grins shyly and shakes her head. “No, I’m right here.”
I let out a laugh. “That’s true. Here you are.”
“And you’re here, too.”
Her adorableness is bittersweet. I can’t help thinking that if things had been different, my own little girl would be here right now.
“Yup,” I agree. “Here I am.”
“I have something for you,” she says in a hushed voice as if it were a secret. I wait patiently as she digs into her coat pocket. “Here.” She triumphantly holds up an old metal can opener. “I’ve been saving it for you.”
My hand shakes as I take it from her.
Years ago, Brianna gave me a broken can opener just like this one and inspired me to build a steam-punk toucan with it. “What do you think you can make with this, Trash Cowboy?” she’d teased, alluring and sultry, then went up on her tiptoes to kiss me. It was the first project we worked on together. We inscribed our initials on the bottom of it. It turned out to be the first piece I ever sold. Bri had so much faith that I’d be crazy successful someday. Two hundred dollars was life changing for us back then. But I’d do anything to have that toucan back now. The sentimental value to me is priceless.
I smile at the little girl. “Thank you. I think I can do something really cool with this.” I assume her parents must’ve brought her along to one of my art shows. Gotta admit, I never thought I’d have such a young fan. It’s cool as hell.
Penny stares at me, then exhales a faint, dreamy sigh. “I remember you,” she whispers, reaching out to lightly touch the leather patch over my eye. “Does this hurt? Under there?”
“Not anymore.”
A faraway look fills her green eyes. Her hand lingers near my face, lightly twirling the strands of my hair. As weird as it is to be touched by a kid I don’t even know, she’s rendered me totally motionless and breathless. It’s as if a butterfly has landed on me, and I fear if I move, it’ll fly away. After a few seconds, she pulls her hand away and steps around me to walk toward the pile of junk. I watch her as she tilts her head at it, deep in thought.
“It’s an elephant,” she finally says matter-of-factly.
A grin spreads across my face. An elephant. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? I can already see how I can use the pieces of tarp to make its skin, the hoses for its trunk and tail, tusks from PVC… it’s perfect.
“You just saved me a ton of time, little darlin’.”
She beams up at me. “Can I see it when it’s done?”
“It’s gonna be a while, but sure.”
“Of course you can come back and see it,” Brianna adds. “You can come here anytime you want.”
“I’ll definitely come back,” Penny says, and suddenly, her attention is caught by something behind me. In the blink of an eye, she runs toward the doors, yelling, “Cherry!”
My dog is standing there, wagging her tail so hard her butt is wiggling with happiness as Penny throws her arms around her.
“I love her so much,” Penny says, burying her face in the dog’s mane.
“How’d you know her name?”
Penny shrugs absently, continuing to run her little hands through the dog’s thick fur. “I don’t know, I just did.”
“I think she likes you. You’re lucky. Cherry is usually kinda shy.”
“She knows I love her.”
Through the trees, the sky is a blaze of pink and orange as the sun sets. I wonder where her parents are and why she’s wandering around all alone when it’s almost dark.
“Where’s your mom or dad? Are they at a neighbor’s house nearby?” I ask.
“No.”
I meet Brianna’s eyes across the room. She shrugs and continues swinging her feet.