The Permutation

Breakthrough (Part 12) Christopher

    He made a concerted effort to quiet his footfalls as he approached. Christopher wanted to observe her in her natural habitat before he disrupted her with his presence.

Gracie's imagination and intelligence with her toys never ceased to put a smile on his face. His heart swelled with joy when he saw her playing with the LEGO set he'd bought her. A T-shirt with personified versions of the nine planets of the solar system looked more like a miniature dress on her. Measuring clothing sizes was not a skill he possessed.

    Gracie hadn't developed to the point where she could copy the diagram on the instruction manual, but that didn't make what she created any less magnificent. In many ways, the circuitous avenues of a child's mind are far more boundless than an adult could conceive. Over time, those avenues get blocked for the most efficient route until they're creativity is lost forever, nothing more than a distant memory.

    Christopher rapped his knuckle on the open door soft enough as not to startle her. Gracie jumped a little at the sound and turned her head. The amalgam of LEGOs she'd been working on fell to the floor, and she started running towards him. A smile that Christopher had only been able to dream of for the past few months lit her features. He knew everything was going to be alright as she jumped into his arms, and he circled her in his embrace.

    Her shriek of "Daddy!" Still hung in the air, and Christopher felt moisture glisten in his eyes.

    "Daddy missed you so much," Christopher said.

    "Do you want to play?" She asked, her voice had never sounded so melodic.

    "Nothing would please me more," Christopher replied.

    Children are notorious for their short attention spans and Gracie's active mind was no different. She didn't bog herself down with adult situations; Daddy was here now and that's all that mattered.

    Christopher dropped to his knees and started to work with the LEGOs. He noticed she'd arranged the blocks into piles corresponding to size and color, and it reminded him of how he'd been as a kid. Always the authoritarian, Gracie directed Christopher into building the structure she saw somewhere in her imagination, all thoughts of anything outside that moment vanished into the wind.

    As was true of all good moments, it passed by in the blink of an eye.

Kate stood in the doorway. Her eyebrows were downcast, and the corners of her mouth wavered as if she bordered on a smile, but didn't have the energy to maintain it. She had the good grace not to say anything and motioned for Christopher to leave the room.

It would be so easy to stay in the room with his daughter and forget the world until they dragged him away from her kicking and screaming. The thought tempted Christopher, but he'd made a promise. Five minutes.

He leaned towards Gracie and planted a kiss onto her two cheeks and forehead. She giggled at the familiar ritual and kissed him back in the same fashion. Christopher stood up and felt another piece of his heart shrivel up and break off with a brittle snap. Leaving Gracie behind was like leaving behind some vital organ necessary for Christopher to function, and he worried about the fallout. Coming here had been a bad idea, but he knew that it's a mistake he would have made on repeat.   

"Daddy, you're leaving again?" She called behind him.   

Christopher didn't have the heart to reply. If he opened his mouth, tears, apologies, and begging would issue forth. He didn't make this harder on anyone than it needed to be.

"You might get to see Daddy again soon sweetie, if you're patient." Kate said, "Daddy still has some stuff he needs to do."   

A constant of complaint of Kate's had been that Christopher never gave any of the hard talks, that he always made Kate play the bad guy. In this moment, he wanted to help her and show her that he was capable of helping, of pulling his weight. He turned around to tell Gracie that Kate had done nothing wrong and it was all his fault, but the words wouldn't come out. In times of stress, speaking to other people became too hard for his body to handle. His mouth would gape open, but words wouldn't come out, like a fish out of water trying to explain that it needs air to breathe.