The Simple Joys
The air was as cold as a commander beneath the clouds that settled over the city of Vorthyr. Men in uniform were scattered in the streets as they prepared for an impending invasion from the neighboring province. Men were drafted and women carried burdens they had never imagined bearing. Businesses closed one after the other like dominoes. The desperation of the population was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Marilyne sat at the kitchen table with her arithmetic workbook in front of her. The only comforting sound in the kitchen was the scratch of her pen on the delicate paper as the world slowly descended into chaos. The shouts of soldiers outside made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She couldn’t help but lean over to check the ticking grandfather clock. It had seen better days, and the same could be said for the entirety of the houses in the neighborhood. Most could scarcely be called houses anymore, but rather patched-together shacks. It was the best her father could do for her after jobs were swept away in the blink of an eye. Marilyne said a silent prayer for the safety of his return, as return was never a certainty within a rundown neighborhood in Vorthyr. Minutes felt like hours, but she forced herself to continue.
The door creaked open, letting a gust of cold air inside the tiny house before it was shut again. Marilyne knew who it was. Footsteps approached the kitchen and soon enough, there was the blessed sight of her father. He was a man who could change the atmosphere of the room in seconds. He was a lean man with a strong jawline. Despite their circumstances, he remained impeccably dressed in crisp white button-ups and pressed trousers. His neatly combed black hair had become slightly tousled, with a few strands hanging over his forehead. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and Marilyne could see the guilt written across his face. It was clear he had returned from another day at the hotel with the wealthy women that other men so clearly avoided. With war looming, it was the only way he knew to support himself and his daughter. His debilitating asthma had kept him from securing a manufacturing job or being drafted into the army.
Regardless of his eternal battles, he gave a genuine smile to his daughter. He draped his coat over the back of a chair before leaning over behind Marilyne to kiss her temple.
“My precious,” he murmured affectionately, trying to anchor himself to her innocence. “It is good to be home.”
Marilyne smiled softly, her eyes twinkling at the sight of her best friend. He made his way to the steaming pot of water she had put on earlier to make some tea. He grabbed a chipped mug and sprinkled tea leaves into it. He poured the still-hot water into it before pulling out a chair next to Marilyne.
“Sister Tiya told me you were at the top of your class at the last conference,” he said warmly. “You are going to be the smartest girl in all of Vorthyr.”
He smoothed the back of her head affectionately.
“Oh, how could I forget?” he said to himself more than to Marilyne as he stood up to search through his coat on the chair. He pulled out a small, lightweight package wrapped in her favorite shade of pink tied with a simple white ribbon that was poorly cut. He clearly did it himself, but wanted to make even the smallest things special. He set it gently on the table beside her arithmetic book.
“This is for you.”
He sat down, eager to see Marilyne’s reaction. She stared at the package for a moment before meeting his eyes. She untied the ribbon and carefully removed the wrapping. She opened the package to find her favorite sweet treat from one of the few bakeries still operating in town, owned by an elderly woman. It was a small luxury her father would most likely skip a meal to afford. Marilyne smiled brightly and took a bite. Her reaction was all her father needed to forget his shame, his guilt, his worry, even if for only a little while.
“Thank you, father,” she said adoringly. “I love it.”
His heart swelled with a love so fierce for his daughter it felt as if it would burst. He chuckled warmly as he noticed a few lingering crumbs on the side of her mouth.
“That is not how a lady eats, but I am willing to make exceptions just this once.”
His green eyes met Marilyne’s, which were so much like his.
The ugly world continued on outside, but for one precious moment, he and his daughter were free to lose themselves in the simple joy of a pastry.
