The Make a Wish Night Light

Most people enjoy visiting the house they grew up in. I’m not one of them. Every time that old, two story Victorian comes into view the bottom of my chest falls out. My hands start sweating, followed by an army of ants making a mad dash over my scalp.

This time the visit had a purpose. Along with the normal anxiety came hope for the future. This visit may very well be the last. A jab hits me just below the ribs. My hand instinctively dropping to my belly, hoping Olivia June isn’t feeling all the crazy stuff I’m feeling.

The old Xterra’s tire hits the curb a little harder than normal. I never was very good at pulling into the narrow driveway. With one eye on the front door, I bring the SUV to an abrupt stop. Olivia June doesn’t like that one bit, if the sharp pain below my floating rib is any indication.

“Sorry about that.” I stroke her through my belly. I guess I did press the brake pedal a little too hard.

The front door flies open as an apparition spills out onto the porch. My mother looks like a floating ball of yarn wrapped tightly in an old wool sweater. I feel breathless and suck in every available ounce of oxygen inside the SUV. Time to get this over with.

“Hi Gracie.” Mom’s voice rises in volume as I step out of the SUV. “Oh my, you’re huge. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, you know, the usual.” I force a smile to hide my anxiety. A trick I had learned as a young girl in this very house.

“Sore back, swollen ankles?” She beams as she spreads her arms.

“Yeah.” I return the hug as gently as possible.

“Yeah, the usual.” Mom ushers me toward the porch.

Inside the house the heat is stifling. As usual, mom has the old pot belly burning at top capacity. She pushes me past the old stove toward the kitchen. Maybe she’s afraid I’d melt. I step into the kitchen where the temperature is ten degrees cooler.

“So, how’s Adam doing? Is he excited yet?” She flashes me one of her snarky smiles.

“Yeah, he says he is. You know Adam, about as excitable as a sloth hanging in a tree.”

“You two aren’t fighting, are you?” Mom’s face instantly transforms into her what can I fix look.

“No! You know we don’t fight. I’d have to threaten him with a rolling pin to get a rise out of him. To tell you the truth, I never know what he’s thinking.” And truthfully, talking about my husband is the last thing I want right now.

“Well, if having a daughter doesn’t get a rise out of him, nothing will.” Mom grabs the tea pot from the stove and steps up to the sink.

“We’ll see.”

“You said you want to look through some of Olivia’s old things?” The water echoes off the interior of the tea pot.

“Yeah, she had stored a couple of things for me. Some things I’d like to decorate the baby’s room.”

“You’re looking for that damned night light, aren’t you?” She pulls her brow into a knit.

“Uh huh.” I say absently mindedly, hoping to avoid the conversation I know is coming.

“Why on earth would you want that god awful thing staring at your beautiful child all night?” The faucet squeaks as she twists the handle.

“It’s not just any night light, mom. The Make a Wish Night Light was a gift from Livy. It’s important to me.” I find the old landscape painting on the wall. Looking at its earthly palette is much more comfortable than looking at mom. “Is it so bad to want a gift from my big sister watching over my daughter?”

“She always was a strange one. That night light was the least of it.” Mom lights the stove, placing the pot on the burner. Not satisfied, she positions it again.

“Livy was the best sister I could’ve ever had.”

“She should have been.” Mom says, with touch of regret. “I raised her right. I’m glad I did too, after your father left, I needed her help to raise you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.”

Here she goes again. The same old story about life’s difficulties after dad left. I’m hoping she doesn’t bring up how unhappy he was after their little accident arrived. Having another daughter was just too much, and he left because of it. “Me either.”

“Oh, don’t start. It wasn’t easy raising you by myself.”

“Would it really have been that much easier with dad here?” It wasn’t my fault you two had a vodka night and popped me out nine months later.

“I wouldn’t have had to work as much and could’ve been here for you. At least you won’t have to worry about raising your little one on your own.”

“I’m not sure how much help Adam will be. I’ve never seen him around kids, so I don’t know how good he’ll be with her.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s a good man, just like your father.” She turns away to gather the tea and cups.

I never could understand why she chose to hold on to this memory of him. He had left without so much as a note. No explanation at all. It was like he was snatched in the middle of the night like in one of those unsolved mysteries you see on TV.

Yet she insists on blaming me, or Livy, or herself. Good men talk to their families. Spend time with them. They work through the issues. Dear old dad never said a word. He was cold. Never showed the slightest affection or care. I was glad when he left. So was Livy.

“Well, everything we kept from Olivia’s is in a box in your old closet. Your sister wanted you to have it, so take what you like.”

I’m walking toward the kitchen door before she finishes, “thanks.”

The stairs creak with each step. That harsh, grating sound still drives chills down my spine. I remember these sounds so well. They only came late at night while the rest of the house slept. I press my eyes shut before taking the next step.

This has to be the last time. A little piece of me dies every time I hear the grating of creaking floorboards. I have to take everything home this time. I can’t come back. And I can’t forget anything that was a part of Livy. Especially the Make a Wish Night Light.

When Livy died, I wasn’t ready for another wish. Things were okay. Olivia June hadn’t been conceived yet. But now that her due date is so close, I’m starting to get scared for her. I know the Make a Wish Night Light can help me keep her safe. And for my own sake, and my daughter’s sake, I need to put what happened in this house behind me.

A click snaps though the brass as I turn the doorknob. My pulse beats at my throat. I swallow hard before pushing the door open. The room’s dark, only the grey light filtering through the window lights the room. The little Grace inside me, the one who had lived in this room, starts screaming, I won’t go in there! I can’t go in there!

I ignore her, as I often do when she starts screaming. I know I shouldn’t, at least that’s what the therapist says. But I do all the same, just long enough to do what I need to do.

I reach for the light switch, finding its familiar location a little too easily. The room comes to life. The old yellow light reflects brightly off the walls. The little Grace inside is silent, but I can feel her.

It’s brighter than I remember. Everything is clean. If I know my mother, she had performed a spot dust and vacuum that very morning. The only dark spot in the room is the window, letting in what little light the cloudy sky had to offer. The pane speckled with rain droplets distorting the outside world beyond.

There are times my previous life here feels unreal. Like something my imagination came up with from a nightmare. Are my memories real? Or just dreamed up after reading a cheap horror novel? Except, I don’t read horror novels.

A flutter in my abdomen tells me it’s time to get this over with. I move to the closet and open the door, finding a gapping black mouth staring back at me. It doesn’t slow me; I need to get this done. I find the pull sting that ignites the light bulb.

As if by providence, I find the right box on the first pull. Dust takes flight as it comes off the top shelf, making my nose itch. I place the box on a chair and stifle a sneeze.

The lid pops off causing more dust. There it is, partially buried under some old Christmas doilies. The breath catches in my throat. The figurine’s dark eyes burrow into me. I had always remembered light flooding from those eyes, creating an angelic effect. But now, they look like pits dug in the earth.

I dig through the box, unearthing the figurine. My pulse thunders in my ears as the Make a Wish Night Light is revealed. My excitement giving way to anxiety. This is not what I remembered the night light to be.

The Make a Wish Night Light is a statuette of a woman adorn in an old Victorian dress, the kind that spills out from the hips. An umbrella lazily leans upon the shoulder while a top hat crowns the head. The back of the figurine is left hallow, allowing the light to spill out on the umbrella. The face is slender and elegant, with hollow sockets for eyes. When the light is on, the eyes shine like heavenly orbs. At the moment, they’re black pits. I shiver staring at those pitch-black pits staring back at me.

My chest feels like an anvil under a hammer. I expected elation when I saw the night light, not this. This dread only supports the thought that my memories are, indeed, wrong. If my warm memories of the night light are fabrications, what about my memories of this house? This room? Did I make all this shit up? And, if that’s true, are my suspicions about Adam all in my head, too?

Then, Livy’s voice drifts up from the past. Loud and comforting as if she were here in the room with me. I could remember the afternoon Livy snuck into my room while I was supposed to be doing homework. I remember what she had said to me, “the same thing happened to me, Gracie.” I could always trust my big sister.

I need out of here. I never want to return to this horrible house ever again. The box is under an arm as I rush out the door, I barely register the switch of the light or the click of the door as I leave my chamber of torments. I had what I came for.

I’m oblivious to the creaking stairs as I descend. Mom wears a pained expression as she watches me.

“A cup before you go,” she asks, holding out a mug of green tea.

“I can’t. I just received a call from the doctor’s office. They asked if I could come in early because of a last-minute change in the doctor’s schedule.” My eyes are firmly on the stairs in hoping they won’t give away my little white lie. I’m a horrible liar.

“Okay.” She sounds hurt, but then she hurriedly adds, “have you and Adam picked out a name yet?”

“Oh yes, I thought I had told you.” Another lie. “Olivia June.”

A flash crosses her eyes. I was hoping to avoid a meltdown. Somehow, I had always felt mom was jealous of Livy. I was always close to Livy, and I think that bothers her.

Olivia June stabs at my ribs, causing me to smile. “She just kicked me. She must’ve heard her name.”

Mom’s eyes are shining as I leave the old Victorian.

Doubt spreads across the back of my neck like insects. The Make a Wish Night Light stands like a gargoyle on the dresser’s corner closest to the crib. It still unsettles me to look at it. I blow out a breath and reach for the plug, hoping, no, praying that when I turn it on, it’s going to miraculously transform into the angelic statue I remember from my childhood.

I delicately take the rocker switch spliced in the electrical cord. The switch snaps loudly as I press it to the on position. Still afraid to look at the thing, I step back, keeping my eyes on the floor. Well, now or never, it’s either what I remember, or it’s not. I shift my eyes to the night light.

I feel like I just stepped into a lukewarm bath; disappointed. The night light’s barely visible, casting a strange shadow against the wall. The eyes are showing signs of life, but they look like distant candles. God, I wish I could talk to Livy.

A loud pop overhead shatters the silence. I steady myself on the crib’s rail and search the room. The room’s different, darker. My eyes snap to the ceiling light fixture. One of the old light bulbs has just burned out. That explains the difference in lighting.

Out of the corner of my eye, something is blazing. The night light. It’s brighter now. And those eyes. They’re looking right at me. Staring at me like the night light is talking to me. Answering me.

I run to the bedroom door and flick off the light switch. The Make a Wish Night Light is the only light on in the room. And it glows! Beautifully! Angelically! Just like in my memories.

The entire corner of the room surrounding The Make a Wish Night Light glows like a movie projector on the wall. More than that, it’s warm, like stepping into a summer’s day. I’m overwhelmed, rivers running down my cheeks. Unable to hold back, a giggle escapes from my lips. I look to my swollen belly with blurry eyes. Olivia June will be safe.

The Make a Wish Night Light flickers ever so slightly. Just enough for me to notice. I feel as if it agrees with me. Olivia June will be safe. It will help me keep her safe with the right wish. Then it’s up to me to teach my daughter to be happy and healthy and void of all the crap I’ve dealt with in my life. The anxiety, the insecurity, the self-doubt. Nope, my little girl isn’t going to grow up with that.

The wall next to me rattles as a loud boom follows it up the stairs. This, I’m familiar with. Adam just slammed the heavy oak front door downstairs.

“Grace, I’m home,” echoes up the stairs.

I wipe my face with a sniffle, all the while smiling at my bloated stomach. “I’m in the baby’s room.”

I step toward The Make a Wish Night Light, basking in its glow. Now, I just need to find the right wish. I just wish I knew for certain that Adam wasn’t going to harm my baby girl.

I feel him enter the room. He stops behind me, planting a kiss on the back of my head. I turn to meet him, surprised at the affection. He kisses me again, this time on the lips.

“Where’d you get that?” He says, nodding toward the night light.

I hesitate, confusion still rolling inside my head. He never kisses me when he comes home. He’s usually busy opening a beer.

“I went to visit my mother today. She’d been storing some things of mine from Livy’s house.”

“Oh,” he wrinkles his nose. “It’s kind of gawdy, isn’t it? Are you sure you want that watching over Olivia June?”

“It was a gift from Livy. It’s very special to me and I want Olivia June to have something from her aunt.”

“I’m sorry honey, I don’t see the appeal. But if it’s special, I’ll let you keep in here with our daughter.” He kisses me again and I melt into him, soaking up every bit of him that I can get. I wish he was like this every night.

“What’s for dinner?” He asks.

“I picked up soup and sandwiches from Arnold’s. I got your favorite.”

“I thought you were going to start cooking more.” He says, turning toward the door.

“The day got away from me after my visit with my mother.”

Adam’s quiet at the dinner table, which is normal for him. I’m afraid he might be angry because I hadn’t cooked. He wants us to save money. Truth be told I really didn’t feel like cooking. The excitement over the night light had worn me out. And, since I’m being honest with myself, I really didn’t feel like cooking for someone who typically ignores me. His behavior tonight was, how shall I put this, spectacular. But this is new for him, and I’m not sure it will last past this evening. Was he finally making an effort?

To test my theory, I reach for his hand. “How is it?”

“Good.” He pulls away, grabbing his napkin. It looks like he’s back to his cold, distant self. I never understood his moods. Thirty minutes ago, I was in his arms, now his mind is god knows where. How is Olivia June going feel when he treats her like this?

Are all men like this? Cold, distant, self-absorbed? Surely there are men who are warm and affectionate. That’s what I want for my daughter. Hell, that’s what I want for me.

Adam reminds me so much of my own father. Who knows, maybe that’s why I married him. But, now with a baby on the way, it scares the hell out of me.

My father always acted as if I were invisible. That was until he started coming to room at night. I was so excited the first time he sat on my bed and caressed my cheek. I was so happy my dad was finally taking notice of his daughter. Then the touching started. After that his visits were a nightmare.

It wasn’t long after that Livy asked me about dad. She asked if he was coming to my room. I didn’t know what to tell her. But, somehow, she already knew. Livy told me dad had done the same thing to her. Better still, she said she found a way to make him stop. I remembered how fast my heart beat when she asked me. “Do you want dad to stop, Gracie?” My head nodded like a ball on a spring.

I walk into the baby’s room fixating on Adam. How he had pulled his hand away at dinner. It hurt. All I wanted was to show my husband I loved him. Was I ever going to be important to him? Would Olivia June ever be important to him? Or would he show his love the way my father had?

The figurine’s standing guard and glowing just like I had left it. But I have little comfort at the moment. I feel I’ll never be able to trust Adam. We’ve been fine up till now, just the two of us. I can handle his moods. But what about Olivia June? If Adam is incapable of showing his love, that’s one thing. But how can I be sure he won’t physically or emotionally abuse my little girl? That is something I won’t allow.

“How do I know she’ll be safe from him?”

The light flickers, at least I think it did. Was that my mind playing tricks on me?

“I’m asking you; will she be safe?” It did it again. Just a slight flicker.

“Are you talking to Olivia June again?” Adam asks from our bedroom down the hall.

A tingle runs up my spine. That’s embarrassing. Caught asking a night light if my child will be safe from my husband. All I can do is answer quickly. “Yes.”

“I think you talk to that baby more than you talk to me.” This time he’s in the doorway.

“That’s because she’s with me all the time.” I turn to see his sheepish grin. Did he hear what I asked the night light?

“You’re going to be a great mother, Grace.” He slips his arm around my shoulder, kissing me on the forehead. I’m holding the confusion at bay. Is he really trying? I bet he refuses to speak to me tomorrow morning.

“I hope so.” I say to his chest.

“You will. Just relax and let things happen the way they’re meant to.” Using his finger, he lifts my chin and kisses me on the lips. “I’m going to bed, care to join me?”

I smile. He’s being affectionate twice in one night. I wonder if this is the night light at work.

My hand feels warm in his as he leads me to our bedroom. The door swings wide and thumps against the door stop the way it always does. He closes the door behind us as I slide under the covers.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. We both look to the ceiling. I feel like a little kid hiding from the storm under my blankets.

“I heard on the radio we’re supposed to get a nasty thunderstorm tonight.” Adam says.

My eyes roll over the ceiling following the thunder as it dissipates. “Livy used to say, ‘that’s the sound of god bowling in heaven. He must have got a strike.’”

“Are you going to repeat that to Olivia June someday?” He gives me a strange look.

“If it was good enough for my sister, it’ll be good enough for my daughter.”

“Ah, huh.” He switches off the nightstand light. “Good night.”

“Good night, love.”

He’s on his side and fast asleep. I stare at the ceiling knowing sleep will elude me for a while. I really want to understand him. Does he really love me? His comment just now seemed disrespectful. Does he think me crazy? Probably. And his comment earlier about letting me keep the night light in Olivia June’s room. What the hell is that all about? This relationship seems to be more about fulfilling his needs than being a family.

My eye lids grow heavy.

I’m awake. I’m warm and I feel wet. Sweaty. The back of my head is soaked. My eyes search the ceiling for a reason. There isn’t one. Did I have a nightmare? I don’t remember.

Adam is sound asleep next to me. The alarm clock displays 12:24am in blue. I’ve only been asleep for two hours. The windowpane flashes white. A few seconds later a rumble rolls over the house. Tink, tink sounds off the windowpane. Its frequency starts slow, then increases quickly. The thunderstorm is here.

I push myself up out of bed and slide into my slippers. The rain is dowsing the windowpane in sheets now. I slide my feet across the floor to keep from making any noise till I realize I couldn’t wake Adam if I tried. The rain falling on the roof sounds like a waterfall. I watch his gaping mouth suck air as I gently close the bedroom door behind me.

The storm is louder here in the hall. The baby’s bedroom door beacons at the other end of the hall. The glow from The Make a Wish Night Light is as bright as a bonfire reflected off the door. The door seems to flicker, drawing me toward the room. Is it time to make a wish? Does it want me to make a wish?

I enter the room. It’s beautifully illuminated by the night light. I imagine myself sneaking in here late at night finding Olivia June sleeping peacefully. I giggle to myself. Who am I kidding? She’ll probably be screaming and needing a change. Whatever’s to come, I welcome it.

Thunder crashes and the night light goes dark. I stand there in pitch-black. Waiting. It feels like forever. Is the night light going to come back on? The night light flickers. I inhale sharply. The night light is back on. And it’s staring right at me!

I’m frozen. Scared to move. Sacred to breath. Scared to blink. Then I do, involuntarily of course. When my eyes open the night light is watching over the crib. My heart pounds. Breathing is difficult. The night light had been looking at me. I know it was. It had to be.

Is my mind playing tricks on me? Maybe I should’ve left it at my mother’s house. This is driving me crazy.

Livy had given me this Make a Wish Night Light when I was seven. This is the same night light we had used to wish my father away. I think we had wished him away. We either wished him away or it was a crazy coincidence.

The night light flickers again. This time I know it had flickered. It’s talking to me. It wants me to make a wish.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to wish for.” The night light’s eyes brighten. “Adam reminds me so much of my father. But that doesn’t mean he’ll be like my father? It doesn’t mean he’ll ever hurt Olivia June. Does it? I can’t just wish him away. What if I’m wrong about him?”

The night light’s eyes are even more intense now. I swear I can hear an electric hum.

Livy’s voice drifts up through my memories again. I can remember what she said the night we used the night light. “All we need to do is make a wish. Do you have a wish?’

I had shaken my head and told her, “I don’t know what to wish for.”

Livy took my hand. “Okay, I’ll make the wish, you just have to say what I say. Can you do that?”

I nodded, not sure if I really could or not.

“First, we have to get the night light ready. Say what I say, okay.”

“Okay.”

“Make a Wish Night Light. How I wish with all my might, that you make my wish come true tonight. Do you got that?” Livy had squeezed my hand.

I remember being close to tears. I was so afraid that I was wrong about my dad. “I don’t know.”

“Say it with me Gracie. Make a Wish Night Light.” Livy repeated the mantra slowly so I could keep up. “How I wish with all my might, that you make my wish come true tonight. Good. Now we have to finish it.”

I remember shivering. “But, what if we’re wrong?”

“We’re not wrong Gracie. Remember, dad did the same thing to me that he’s doing to you. You’re not wrong.”

I remember crying. I remember Livy kissing me and wiping away the tears. I miss you so much.

“Let’s finish it. Say what I say.” Livy hugged me close, “I wish that my father would go away and stop hurting me. Come on Gracie, say with me.”

Livy started again, and I followed right behind her. “I wish that my father would go away and stop hurting me.”

“We need to do it three times, Gracie. Ready?”

The tears had stopped after I said it the first time. Livy was right. We weren’t wrong. I wasn’t wrong.

Livy led the way; we repeated the mantra once more, then the third and final time. Livy smiled. I remember jumping into her arms. I also remember falling right to sleep that night.

The following morning, dad had disappeared.

Thunder hit the side of the house like an open hand. That loud crack brings me back to the present. I’m looking at the figurine, and it’s looking at me. It’s waiting. It wants me to make a wish.

“The last time we did this, Livy had to make the wish. We both knew it was the right thing to do. But now, I don’t know. If I’m wrong, I lose my husband and my daughter loses a father.” The Make a Wish Night Light dims, the room darkens. Strange shadows crawl over the wall. Then the night light brightens again. “You really want me to make a wish?” The eyes flash like candles in the wind.

“Okay, I’m going to leave it up to you. Because I don’t really know what’s in Adam’s heart, I’m going to leave this in your hands.”

I suck in every ounce of air my lungs can hold. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I think I have a wish that will be fair to Adam. I exhale, hard. “Make a Wish Night Light. I wish with all my might that you make my wish come true tonight. I wish my daughter to be kept safe and protected for her entire life, and any person or anything meaning her harm, whether it be physical, mental or emotional, be removed from her life.”

I quickly repeat the wish two more times. I’m breathing heavy, but I feel as if a great weight has been lifted. My face is wet. Apparently, I had been crying and hadn’t known it. I wipe my face and smile. God, this feels good. I am so happy I had done it this way. I really did like the idea of a man in my life. If Adam were truly a good man, he won’t be harmed. Otherwise, the night light will deal with him just like it had dealt with my father.

“Thank you.” The figurine’s eyes are focused on the crib once again.

Feeling almost weightless, I make my way to the rocking chair. I want to enjoy Olivia June’s room for a little while longer before going back to bed. I think I’ll be able to sleep now. And I do.

I’m awake again. Did I just hear the floorboards creak? My heart beats against my ribs. There it is. That grating sound again. My breath is caught in my throat. I swallow hard.

What is making that noise? Is my wish coming for me? Is the night light protecting Olivia June from me? Did the night light bring my father back?

Another creak. This one sounds further away. I let myself breath. Then I hear a faint thump, almost inaudible. I know that sound. That’s our bedroom door hitting the door stop. Is Adam awake?

A voice comes from our room. It’s Adam. I relax. His voice again, louder. He sounds panicked. Another thump. It sounds like our headboard. Again, louder this time. Adam’s voice, is he screaming under water? The headboard again, irregular, harsh. It sounds . . . violent. A crash of thunder.

The night light is flashing wildly, like a strobe. The walls reflect moving shadows. Snakes slithering over the plaster. The eyes are on me. Drilling into me.

Lightning flashes. Thunder growls. The storm is so close.

Then silence. The night light is angelic and peaceful again. The room down the hall is silent. My heart pounds like a hammer. Was that real? Did I make this up? My god, I wouldn’t believe this story if anyone told me.

I push myself out of the rocker. Slowly, I slide my feet across the floor, keeping an eye on the night light. When I reach the door, I press my ear to it, constantly watching the light.

The room down the hall is not silent. It had become quiet. But I could still hear something. Like chewing. Crunching. And a gurgling sound, like a backed-up sink.

Nausea sweeps over me. I glance to the night light, standing guard over the crib.

I open my eyes to a glowing room. The sun is spilling through the window. Then I remember the events of the previous night. I must have been dreaming. The creaking floorboards. The violent thumping and thrashing from the other end of the house. I often have nightmares after visiting my mother.

The Make a Wish Night Light still stands guard over Olivia June’s crib. Its light is barely noticeable against the sun light streaming through the window. The night light’s beautiful non-the-less under the sun light.

I open the bedroom door half expecting to see carnage at the other end of the hall. That dream had been very vivid. The master bedroom door is open, the door glowing from the incoming sun light.

“Adam? Are you up?”

No answer. It could be later than I think, and he may have already left for work. I slide my slippers down the length of the hall into the master bedroom. No Adam. The bed looks as if only one person slept in it. The bed is made on his side, while the covers are thrown aside on mine. Adam never makes the bed.

A glance toward my alarm clock tells me it’s only six am. Adam is never up before six fifteen. Fear and excitement boil over my face at the same time. I turn to the staircase and hobble down the steps as quickly as my pregnant body can take me.

The kitchen is dark, empty. I rush to the front door. Adam’s car sits in the driveway, glistening with water beads from last night’s storm.

“Adam, where are you?” No answer. I scramble through the rest of the house. My face, burning. My breath, short. Adam is nowhere to be found.

I press the send button on my phone. A moment later a busy signal comes from the phone’s speaker. I try again, same result. Is Adam’s number out of order?

Slowly, I raise my eyes toward the ceiling.

I take my time climbing the stairs. The idea that my husband is gone is both exciting and frightening at the same time.

I enter the baby’s room, keeping my eye on the night light the entire time. The rocker tilts forward as I take a seat. The sun light pouring through the window glows on the crib. The night light’s face has never looked so beautiful as it does now. All my fears drain away. The world is ready for Olivia June to begin her life.

The Make a Wish Night Light granted my wish.

The Make a Wish Night Light. © Copyright 2021 Jeff Cochran. All Rights Reserved.