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The week after it happened, Jim brought her flowers home after work everyday. She'd told him she was ok. That she didn't need him to bring her flowers, but he'd done it anyway, saying "I love you. If I want to bring you flowers, that's sort of my prerogative...so..."
He'd always take one out of the bunch and put it in a little bud vase for Jill in her bedroom. She was so adorable when she got flowers. The way she touched the petals so gently and talked about how Daddy had got her a flower just like Mommy! She was turning into this itty bitty feminine...thing.
So several weeks later, Jim was still bringing home flowers more often than he ever had before.
It amazed Pam, how much Jill was like her sometimes. She'd started doing this thing where she'd take the petals that fell from her dying flower and hide them in the little "jewelry" box by her bed. The one with the twirling ballerina that popped up each time you opened it. Pam remembered collecting the most random things when she'd been a girl: feathers, rocks, leaves she found particularly interesting...
So she shouldn't have been surprised when the petals showed up Mother's Day morning, glued into the shape of a flower on a sheet of eggshell cardstock on her pillow.
"Wow..."
"I didn't have the heart to tell her the petals were gonna get kind of gross...and I have no idea how to dry them or...whatever you do to keep them looking good," Jim said quietly as Jill snoozed between them in bed. "I should've asked my mom."
"No," Pam said smiling as she combed her fingers through Jill's hair. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"Absolutely...that part was cake," Jim said glancing at the art project he and Jill had made together. "I'm obviously very talented...only a portion of what I can do."
"Obviously...Jill gets none of the credit.....I hope you gave her a deal on this fancy paper," Pam said smoothing her fingers over the now somewhat brittle petals. Tears burned behind her eyes.
"Whatever Pam. Times are tough. Besides, she didn't even know it was Mother's Day. I had to remind her."
Pam giggled and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "She's so inconsiderate."
Jim was grinning. "We made it on Thursday and I swear at some point everyday since, I've had to re-hide it. Your daughter does not understand what surprise means."
"Yeah she does. It's something you whisper...Secrets and surprises just mean that they're whispered."
"Oh. Right," Jim said and then mimicked the way their three year old had given the card to Pam. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Mommy here's ya Pwize..."
Pam laughed out loud and Jill stirred. "Sssh," she said to Jim. "If she doesn't nap she's going to be so cranky for her grandmas' tonight."
Jim lowered his voice and it cracked with amusement. "She thought the flower was actually called a pwise. So then I finally realized that every time I'd told her we had to hide it, I'd said something like... ‘Jill that's Mommy's surprise - we have to make sure she doesn't see it. So she literally thinks that flower is called a Surprise."
Pam giggled. "Stop making fun of my baby."
Jim laughed too. "So I go into her room last night and she's talking to that Daisy I brought home...and she's saying something like, "Hey...Pwize...G'nite...Pwize."
"You have to stop now...She's going to hear you."
"Not making fun, just admiring her usage of the English language...it's very creative."
Pam smiled softly at Jim. "Thank you for my Mother's day gift." He leaned over Jill and kissed her softly.
"Thanks for mine," he said then, glancing down at Jill. He let a curl slip through his fingers. "After all these years who knew she'd still be so entertaining."
"She's ok, huh?" Pam said grinning.
"Yeah, she's ok...." Jim held up Pam's card and they both stared at it for a moment. "So this is pretty good, right? I mean..."
Pam laid her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, it's really good."
"In all honesty, I barely helped. I just drew the stem...and put on the glue."
"Wow," Pam whispered.
"Yeah...I mean right? Wow..."
