Harry J. Salween stood before his daughter, drinking in the sight of her. He swallowed and motioned for her to sit.
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled—that brilliant smile so much like her mother's. She spread her frilly dress around the chair and reached up to arrange a curl, all the while staring up at him with her bright, six-year-old eyes.
Harry knelt before her, touching her knee. “Daddy needs to tell you something. Important.”
She nodded, jiggling her knee just a bit. “Yes,” she repeated.
Oh, God. I can't do this...
“What is it Daddy?” She twisted a curl around her finger and twitched her nose. “Can I go play?”
The doll! Relief washed over him. Standing, he brought the package from off the stand and presented it to her. “I bought you something, Diana. Open it.”
Excitement gleamed in her eyes as she carefully took the package. “Oh, Daddy!” she gasped. Ripping off the paper, she gasped once more. “A doll! My very own doll! Oh, Daddy, you're the best daddy in the world!”
Am I? Am I really?
Harry took the doll and sat it to the side.
Diana clasped her hands, waiting...
“I'm leaving.” The words came out quick, passive. Like a man that had everything under control. Like a daddy that could handle anything even though he was breaking inside...
Diana looked at him, then she smiled. “Can I come, Daddy? Where will you go?” She paused and tilted her head, much as her mother used to do. “Will we be back in time for supper? Miss Christi is fixing pie. I like her pie. Don't you, Daddy?”
Harry raised his brows and slowly shook his head, remaining composed, remaining strong. “No, my dear. I'm afraid you can't go with me this time.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Because I'm leaving and may not be back. Because I'm going across the world. Because I'm deserting you, Diana, to fight for the country I love.
“Why, Daddy?” She tugged on his coat. “Please let me go!”
Harry lifted the little girl up and sat down on the chair, planting her on his lap.
She leaned up against him, as if sensing somehow that there was something special about this moment—something she might someday look back and remember. Perhaps with tears in her eyes...
“Daddy is going far away. Daddy's going to be a strong soldier and fight bad men. Will that make you happy, dear?”
He heard her sniff, then her hand made a fist around his shirt. “I don't want you to, Daddy.”
“I know.”
“Me and Miss Christi will be alone.”
“Yes, but she'll take good care of you.”
Diana paused. “Miss Christi will tell me when you go to the sky, won't she, Daddy? Just like you did when Mommy went to heaven.”
Tears stood in his eyes, but he wouldn't let them go. No. He must be strong, brave, fatherly. The best daddy in the world...
“I'm not going to heaven, Diana,” he finally whispered.
But she wouldn't listen. “Yes you will. Just like when Mommy went away. She didn't come home, and you won't either. And Miss Christi will tell me you went to the sky...” her words trailed away. Her tiny frame seemed to tremble, but no tears came to her eyes.
But she's right. I may not come home. He remembered her mother. She'd gone to her sister's for a wedding. Four weeks to visit. That's all. But she hadn't come home. She'd been too sick, and by the time he'd gone to visit her, she was barely living, straddling on the verge of life and death, passing away even as he held her in his arms...
Harry closed his eyes, clinging to his daughter. “Oh, Diana. Please try to understand.”
“Will you watch me from the sky, Daddy? Like Miss Christi says Mommy does?”
Harry cocked his head so he could better see her face. Her eyes were dry—tearless. How could she be so brave? He wanted to lie to her—tell her he was coming home—tell her everything would be alright and that he would be back very soon.
But lies could only hurt them both—so he just squeezed her in his arms, basking in the soft scent of her hair. “I love you, my dear.”
She scooted up and kissed his cheek. “I love you, too, Daddy,” she breathed in his ear. “And Miss Christi loves you, too.”
Miss Christi? Harry pushed away the thought. “Then I will just have to send the both of you letters, won't I, dear?”
“And a postcard with a picture?”
Harry smiled. “Yes. With a beautiful picture.” He kissed her once more. “Go and play with your doll, Diana. Daddy has to go.”
She hugged his neck, then scrambled off his lap.
Harry watched her mother the doll for a few moments before leaving the room. He paused in the threshold, looking on at her tiny frame. “I love you, Diana...”
“And she loves you, too. Very much.”
Harry turned to find Miss Christi watching him with a smile.
Tears filmed her violet eyes, glistening almost. “She'll miss you dearly.”
Harry shut the door and faced her. “I don't think I can do this.”
“Yes you can, Mr. Salween. You can do anything.” Admiration gleamed on her face, glowing—or was it more?
Diana's words came back to him: Miss Christi loves you, too. Loves you, too...
He swallowed—trying to down the lump in his throat. He'd said good-bye to Diana—one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his life, and yet he'd managed to keep the tears away. Why was this small, plain governess tearing his heart up? Why did her violet eyes cut into him—like knives and bayonets and swords...
“You're making it harder, Christi.” Christi. He'd never called her that before—never dropped the familiar “miss”. Somehow, it almost felt natural.
She smiled at him, very softly. “I don't know how.”
Harry's hand lifted. It caressed her cheek, gently moving against her creamy soft skin. “Answer me one thing. I must know before I...leave.”
Now the tears fell, gliding down her cheeks in silent rivers. “Yes, Mr. Salween?”
“Do you love me?”
Silence.
He touched her arms, holding her at arm's length. “Please. Tell me the truth.”
“How can I?” she whispered back.
More silence.
“I know how much you loved Eileen. And I know her death has not taken away that love. And Diana reminds you of her so much—and you keep loving her more everyday, even though she's gone—”
“Please.” His lips trembled. “Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Since the first time I saw you.”
Again, the silence. Only this time, it was different. It was a blissful silence that was caused from the kiss Harry bestowed upon her lips. She was in his arms. Hands around his neck. Lips lovingly responding to his.
“Christi...”
She looked up at him, face twisted in anguish. “You have just given me everything I ever wanted,” she breathed. “And now you're leaving me.”
“But I love you.” He paused and smiled, despite the tears standing in his eyes. “Is it not enough to know that every night I go to bed I'll be thinking of you—wondering how I could have not realized my heart before now? Is it not enough that I will remember this moment a thousand million times, over and over again? Is this not enough?”
“It is enough.” She smiled at him and was kissed once more...
Then Harry J. Salween moved away from the woman in his arms. He walked down the hall, grabbed his bag, and threw it over his shoulder. He went to the door. He descended the porch steps. He took off down the sidewalk towards a life that could only bring him loneliness and death and sorrow...
He paused and waved, and the woman he loved waved back.