Easter Morning

I smiled, running my fingers along the smooth surface of the page, my father’s deep voice lulling me into a safe secure sleep. Bright colors jumped out of the book, and I wasn’t five years old. I was a young maiden in the perfect gown dancing with the others, and the prince was sweeping me off my feet.
“‘This will only fit Cinderella’ the prince said.” My father’s deep voice was the last thing I heard before immersing myself in the dream.

I had heard these words many times over the course of twenty-two years. ‘It isn’t working’ or ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘you’re a great girl but…’ Jared chose option B.
“It’s not you, but… there’s someone else and I don’t think this is going to work out… I’m sorry,” he looked into my eyes and I could tell this was all for show. He could care less about if I got hurt or not.
I mumbled my memorized “It’s alright, I understand. I just want you to be happy” blah blah blah. He smiled and said thank you. Next on the ‘classic break up action’ was an awkward hug, and sure enough, as if on cue, he hugged me in that ‘we are the weirdest friend-type- something on the earth’ kind of way.
His shoulders were hunched over and the only part of his body that touched me was his arms. I was trying my best to hide the shattering feeling that always followed a break up. I had gotten pretty good at hiding the pain from the rest of the world, but all that did was make it almost migraine-inducing when I was alone. He said goodbye and walked away. You could tell by the jump in his step that he already had a new date for the Christmas party next weekend.
I wanted nothing more than to skip the party all together but Brie would never let me. As a kid she would always drag me to the school dances whether she was invited or not. Being younger never stopped her from living my life. She felt I needed to “add some fun to my life”. I guess she was right. Stupid little sisters.
I clenched my teeth on the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I roughly brushed back a strand of my auburn hair, which was fighting its way out of my French braid. I sighed and bit my lip, wincing as the phone rang, too loud, in my apartment.
I knew who it was before I answered. “Hey, Brie.”
Her chirpy-bird voice came through the phone, cheerful as ever. “Hey, Jenna. So, I was wondering if you wanted a date for the party-“
“Hold on a sec,” I said, holding up a finger as if my sister would see it and pause. “How did you know Jared broke up with me?”
I could hear the nervousness in her voice. “Err… He kind of spread it around…”
“What?” I hissed. The guy that I had been “in love with” since Thanksgiving had been telling people that he was going to dump me? He had told my own sister? Before he had told me? My voice was shaky as I continued. “How long has this been going on?”
Brie hesitated. “Um… A week.”
My heart fell into my stomach, sitting there to be dissolved by acids. I had loved him, and still did, to be honest. This extra hurt… I didn’t understand it. I felt broken, torn. Hollow with shock.
Her voice was suddenly soft over the line. “I’m sorry. I really am. Jared’s an jerk.”
I just answered with a heavy sigh. “Who’s this guy?”
Brie laughed. “That’s my girl! Bounces back just like that!” I heard her snap her fingers. “His name’s Ben. He’s going to be a big shot orthodontist some day… Tons of money… Just like that prince you’ve been looking for!”
I smiled. I supposed that would be nice… But I hadn’t even met the guy yet. Before my dad died I promised him that I would find my prince, but here I am 22 and single, for now.
I sighed. “Set it up little sis.” Brie’s schemes usually end in disaster or, in one case, an explosion. Life was always fun in her eyes.
I heard her squeal like she used to do when mom brought home our puppy. “Yea! I’ll yell Kyle to call him!” she clamored on about how he might be ‘the one’ and how much I was going to adore him. I zoned out and got lost in my own little fairytale.
I was back in bed under my Cinderella covers, my dad sitting on the edge of my bed reading from the storybook that now sat, dusty, on my bookshelf. He was reading my favorite bedtime story, like he always did. His voice enchanted me as I listened carefully to the words. His eyes flitted across the page as his deep voice made the story come alive.
I snapped out of the wonderful dream and found my self sitting on my couch staring at the bookshelf where my father’s storybook lay. I got up off the couch and shuffled my feet the some ten steps and removed the book from the shelf.
“Jenna? Jeeeeennnnnaaaa?” Brie’s voice cooed in my ear.
“I’m sorry. What?” I said as I opened the book for the first time in almost 2 years. It smelled of my father’s aftershave and of my favorite lotion, from my bedroom. I turned to the first story and began skimming the pages, remembering the nights when he would read me to sleep, and the sleepless nights when he wasn’t home to read to me.
“I said that you should meet him at my place tomorrow night,”
“Who?” I asked completely clueless.
“BEN!”
“Oh! Right! Sorry Brie, I’m um… taking a stroll down memory lane right now.”
“Flipping through the storybook are we?” she said very sing-songy.
“How’d you guess?” I asked her.
“Your voice, it sounds the same every time you talk about dad.” She answered.
“It does?”
“Yes, it has that… storyteller quality to it…”
“Brie? I’ll call you back, alright?” as I flipped through the book I remembered everything I had forgotten from my childhood. The days at the park with mom picking flowers, to the fishing days with dad.
“Alright. I’ll talk to you later then. Have a nice stroll.” I chuckled as I set the phone on the coffee table and curled up on the couch becoming completely absorbed as my fathers voice played in my head as I turned the pages of my old storybook.