J A M E S

 

It wasn’t going as he’d planned. Rain was out with her family, unavailable to be the buffer, the comfort, that Lilly needed while he told her what the doctors wanted to do. He’d counted on Rain to cheer her up. Left to do the heavy lifting himself, Lilly only stared at her plate, pushing things around with her fork.

“I’ll pick Rain up every day after school and bring her to the hospital to visit.” He hadn’t discussed it with the Shens yet, but he felt confident they would agree. Lilly still sulked. He hated feeling like the bad guy and hadn’t expected her to take it quite so badly. “She can bring your homework, so you don’t fall behind. And you’ll have your own room, you can watch TV together.”

The brightness he added to his voice did nothing to sway his sullen daughter. He reached out, touched the back of her hand. How long had it been since he’d touched her? Did her skin feel different? Reptilian?

“Lillypod, honey? It’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared—”

“I don’t. Want. To go. What are they even going to be doing to me?” She shot the words like arrows. His heart was the target, but she focused on his eyes. She didn’t sound afraid; she sounded furious.

“They’re trying to help you. They’re trying…” Lilly didn’t grasp what could happen if she didn’t stop growing.

“Why don’t I get a say in it? Why do you just let them do whatever they want?”

Where had all this rage come from? He shrank back, pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry, if it’s…hard. But Lilly, this is very serious. Do you understand? There’s a lot at stake if…. I would die if anything happened to you.”

A part of him was already dying, shriveling as Lilly grew. Once she’d had a beach ball with a tiny hole and the air slowly leaked out. How he wished he could put his finger on her defect—a stop-gap measure until a more permanent solution came along. It wouldn’t be as easy as a sliver of duct tape, but they were running out of time. He also needed (though it was hard to admit) to get Lilly out of the house, and not only because he wanted someone more capable to care for her.

The sight of her was starting to sicken him. How could this abomination be made of his own genetic material? When the doctors suggested admitting her right then and there, his first instinct had been to drop to his knees and kiss their hands. If he’d kept his Best Daddy Ever mouth shut he wouldn’t now have to wait out the weekend. Three nights, two days…. At least they were finally going to do something.

Lilly’s expression, her defiance, softened. A tear slid down her cheek. It melted a chamber of his treasonous heart.

“I’ll stay with you in the hospital, every night.” He gripped her hand. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

“Me too,” she whispered, defeated. “May I be excused?”

“You aren’t hungry?” She shook her head. “Okay. There are leftovers, if you change your mind.”

With her chin already on her chest, she didn’t have as far to duck as she left the kitchen. When he heard her bedroom door shut, James brought his hands to his face and wept. Would either of them survive this metamorphosis?

 

 

Kendra arrived early as promised, before Lilly was even awake, so James could give her a happy surprise (and alleviate a tad of his guilt). The seamstress and her elves had been busy—they’d made another pair of jeans, a denim skirt, the promised hoodie, multiple shirts. Even a pair of pajamas. Lilly’s taste formerly had a bit of flash and flare, and rarely included ruffles or soft colors. Perhaps it was her recent dependence on men’s clothing, and his or Kendra’s influence, but her new wardrobe struck him as more feminine.

As he draped her new clothes over the living room furniture, he remembered the Christmases from when she was very young. His mother remained his inspiration, a magician when it came to holidays and celebrations. She thrived on decorating, baking, expressing her love through the thematic opportunities bestowed on them by special days. He and Lilly celebrated Christmas as he had as a child, and all of the grandparents participated. She’d go to bed in her ordinary house, and awaken to a wonderland filled with sweets and wrapped gifts, a magical tree, and the twinkling smiles of her beloved family.

A living room full of clothing wasn’t exactly the same, but he hoped it would trigger fond memories. He wanted to remind her how much she was loved; it was the least he could do. No. Sadly it was the most he could do, as he was otherwise bereft.

When Lilly finally emerged from her room, barefoot in the blue jeans she’d received the day before (and the butterfly shirt she hadn’t yet worn), James stood and tried to keep the smile from avalanching off his face. The first thing he noticed—something he most definitely didn’t want to see—was a slip of ankle, visible below the hem of her pants. They had fit differently the day before.

Lilly had grown during the night.

“Surprise!” he said, hoping she interpreted his emotion as tears of joy, not sorrow. Not alarm or despair.

Her face brightened as she took in the array of clothes, her eyes traveling from item to item. She fingered the material of the soft pajamas.

“Everything’s so nice,” she said, almost a whisper.

“Want to try it all on? Have a little fashion show?”

It’s what he’d always intended, but now he also wanted to make sure the garments still fit. There was no point in Kendra racing to finish more if Lilly already needed bigger sizes.

Lilly nodded, eager, and scooped up the clothing.

“Before you—” James glanced at his watch. “Want to wait just a minute? Rain will be here soon.”

When Rain hadn’t been available the previous evening, James made arrangements for her to come as the “VIP audience” for Lilly’s fashion show. Zhao, Rain’s dad, would be dropping her off momentarily.

James expected Lilly to give her signature bounce (if her knees still worked well enough) upon hearing of her best friend’s imminent arrival, but instead a cloud passed over her face, dampening her joy.

“Rain’s coming?”

He couldn’t understand why this was anything but good news. “Yes? Is that…?”

“That’s fine.” Arms full of clothes, she headed for her room. “Just call me when she’s here.”

“She’s so excited to see what you got.”

“I know.” Once again, she sealed herself inside her room.

James didn’t understand what was happening. His daughter was growing distant, moody, challenging in ways he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t imagine Rain being cross to Lilly, or saying anything that would damage their friendship—and all of the Shens were concerned about her health. James kept Michelle, Rain’s mom, up to date on Lilly’s situation.

Before he could ponder it further he heard a car door slam; he was there to greet Rain before she even knocked. He waved goodbye to Zhao, who toot-tooted the horn in farewell. Across the street James spotted a white van covered with stickers, its skulking occupant pointing a long-lensed camera toward his house. Bloody press. James gave him the finger and turned away.

Rain bounded in, bringing with her the scent of watermelon shampoo and a youthful vitality that he realized, suddenly, was missing from his house. As Lilly grew, the playful and innocent and optimistic elements of their existence, once taken for granted, were sucked out of the air as if they fed some vampiric creature. Now that he recognized it, he could almost see the shadowy ghost hovering near the ceiling, waiting to drift down and poison them when they ran out of reasons to be hopeful. Rain, in spite of her name, was nothing short of sunshine and James hoped she would do more than brighten Lilly’s day. Was it too much to ask of a tween to replenish their atmosphere?

“Hi!” she said with a grin.

“So happy you’re…. Lilly, Rain’s here!”

“Lilly, come strut your stuff!” She plopped onto the sofa, ready to be entertained.

“Out in a sec!”

Nothing in Rain’s behavior indicated she had any reservations about seeing Lilly, so whatever was happening was on Lilly’s end. Perhaps his daughter’s anxiety was worse than he knew, and starting to manifest in anger and frustration. Or maybe…. Was Lilly aware that she could die?

Terminally ill people sometimes pushed away their loved ones, thinking that if they don’t feel as close to the dying person, their death will hurt them less. Oh no…. This was a whole new level of nightmarish if Lilly felt like she was dying. As soon as the fashion show was over James would sneak off to his office and call the doctors. (If she was smaller he might have hoisted her up and rushed to the hospital that minute.) For now, he couldn’t let himself panic and risk ruining his daughter’s happy morning. He focused on Rain—sunshine—and the effortless way she radiated glee and anticipation.

“Have you eaten?” he asked her. “Lilly hasn’t had breakfast yet, so I’ll be making some eggs and toast. Want anything to drink?”

“I might have a nibble, but I’m good. I just wanna see Lilly. Lilly, come on!”

And there she was. Lilly’s door opened and she pranced out, quite gracefully (even with her thick, cumbersome feet), wearing the floral-patterned blouse tucked into the denim skirt. Her reservations about Rain’s arrival seemed to have been forgotten. She strutted past the furniture and stood near the kitchen entryway, from which she could give them an unobstructed view of her modeling. Hand on her waist, she turned one way, then another, showing them her outfit from multiple angles.

Grinning ecstatically, Rain squealed and clapped her hands. “Holy galoshes, Lilly! You look so grown up!”

James had noticed the same thing, but it wasn’t something that made him cheer. The shirt’s pattern looked too mature for her, and it fit…. It didn’t hide her breasts the way the overly large menswear had, or even the way her new boxy T-shirts did. It aged her in a way he didn’t like, making her look womanly.

“It fits perfectly!” said Rain.

“This is my favorite.” She did a little spin, although the skirt’s heavy denim didn’t flair. “Kendra is a genius!”

James was pretty sure Kendra had measured the skirt to come to Lilly’s knees, and now it stopped just above them.

Lilly seemed unaware of the height she’d gained during the night. Perhaps from her perspective it was so incremental as to not matter.

“Do you like it, Daddy?”

“You look beautiful, honey.” And she did. His angel. His sweet little angel who wasn’t going to survive. He ducked into the kitchen for a cup of coffee so the girls wouldn’t see him cry.

 

 

Lilly tried on different combinations of all her new garments.

Her other favorites were the boot cut jeans—which looked naturally faded as if she’d worn them for years (and had length to spare)—and the red hoodie with the kangaroo pocket. This outfit, too, filled James with emotion. It was just the sort of thing little Lilly would have worn, with her glittery silver high-tops.

“That is so you!” Rain gushed.

So Lilly. Who she had been. And now, exponentially larger in every direction, this version of her was like a sponge that soaked up too much water. This was Lilly, exaggerated. Stretched on a rack. A little girl plumped with treats before the witch devoured her. The resemblance to her former self was more than James could take. Ever since the previous day’s appointment his waking moments were accompanied by a clock that ticked louder and faster with each advancing hour. He wracked his brain, certain that in his youth he’d read a story of a boy who grew too fast, and to cure him the father….

Procured some special fruit from a strange land?

Made selfless promises to a troll?

Hadn’t there been a tale of a beautiful woman who, every midnight, turned into a witch? And a man loved her without showing preference for her silky self or her warty one, for which she rewarded him by returning his afflicted little boy to good health. But where to find such a woman? He’d only dated sporadically since Daphne’s death, and none of the online dating sites offered such a match.

Every day their predicament found a new way to torture him and James was struggling to maintain the usual routines of their lives.

“Gonna scramble some eggs,” he said, retreating to the kitchen. As he whisked, then spooned the congealing yellow around in the pan, he heard Lilly and Rain from the other room. Lilly’s voice hadn’t changed. From afar, they were two ordinary eleven-year-old girls, a few weeks into middle school, giggling over familiar things. Along with the dozen eggs, he toasted ten slices of bread.

He carried his plate, with its meager portion, through the living room. “Breakfast’s all ready—I’ll leave you girls to it. You know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Daddy!”

He hoped his retreat was seen as a gesture of kindness, of consideration that his growing daughter (even if she hadn’t physically grown so much) needed more privacy with her friends. When he was sure she couldn’t see him, he ran to his office and shut the door. He needed the specialists. He needed the rabbit hole of the internet with its conspiracy theories and professional quacks. He needed to call his parents. Someone out there had to tell him there was a cure, that everything would be fine, or he wasn’t sure he could go on being a person, a functioning human, never mind the dad his daughter needed.

Once he’d had a weird reaction to a medication that left him feeling like his veins were on fire, like his muscles were controlled by a switchboard helmed by drunk kittens. But what had bothered him most was the effect it had on his brain—on his thoughts and inability to communicate. Every word traveled in its own helium balloon, neatly labeled. He saw the thoughts he wanted, the things he wanted to say, as they drifted away. His non-functioning hand hadn’t been able to reach up and grab the words, so there’d been no way to explain to onlookers how desperately wrong he felt.

It was like that now. A panic that wouldn’t conform to words. A tragedy that, like the elevated pitch of a moron sucking in helium, looked humorous at first. Lilly the Friendly Giant. But irreplaceable brain cells were killed by that idiotic balloon. Lilly’s affliction was a reality he had to accept, but struggled to believe. Given the fantastical and deadly nonsense of his life, who should he summon for a cure? A clown?

He clamped a hand over his mouth so the girls couldn’t hear the bubbles of tainted laughter that escaped from his throat. In the tri-reflections of his screens he weighed which clown to summon first.