"Rose! Where are you? Can you come out for me, sweetie?"
Tucked into the corner between my closet and laundry basket, I decided to let out a giggle. See if my little hint would help Dad find me. He checked my room first so he wouldn't be back anytime soon, and my corner was the best. There was a dark spot where the ceiling light was cut off, and there was a tiny indent in the wall by the closet. All I had to do every time I wanted to play hide-and-seek was move my basket in front of the space and pile some clothes over my head.
Once I heard a sigh from Dad, I knew it was time to come out slowly. I cautiously put some of my clothes back in the basket and made sure to move it back to the hiding spot.
"Dad, I'm in my room!" I couldn't hold back another giggle as he appeared in the doorway with a shocked expression.
"You move around while I'm looking for you, don't you?" He crossed his arms, but his expression was humorous.
"Don't insult me Dad." Huffing, I decided it was my turn to cross my arms.
"Firstly, it's insult, not insalt. Secondly, it's okay to admit it Rosie, we all cheat a little." Before I could respond, he lifted me from under my armpits and tossed me on the bed.
"Dad! You can't throw me on my bed after you made me make it."
He didn't listen to my whining as he walked over with a look on his face. Oh no, I knew that look. Backing away from his side of the bed, Dad stretched his arms.
"Here comes the tickle monster," he said, wiggling his fingers.
"I'm gonna tell mom." Dad paused for a moment, put a finger on his chin like he was contemplating stopping, then smiled.
Cheese and crackers, I bolted off my bed and made a wide turn around him to the doorway. My heart raced as I ran through the hallway towards Mom's office. I could hear Dad chasing after me, and my heart rate picked up a little more with that knowledge. I would worry, but with the years I have on me, I've learned that I can run way faster, or at least he'll let me think that.
Once I reached Mom's office, I tried to turn the doorknob, but it didn't budge. I shook it back and forth desperately. Looking behind me, I saw Dad three feet away, walking again with his fingers held out and wiggling.
Before I bolted again, I looked at him and stuck my tongue out.
He was so gonna run again after that. I changed my plan and darted to the right, heading for the door leading to the garden. On my way out, I passed some ripe tomatoes that made my mouth water. I slowed a bit, thinking about whether I should ask Mom to make some beef tomato soup, and that's when Dad caught me.
"Cheese and crackers!" I yelled as he started the torture.
By the time the tickles stopped, I was on the floor, cheeks sore from laughing and panting. I pushed myself up, dusting off particles of dirt and grass blades from my clothes. I shot a glare at Dad, who had started looking at the tomatoes too.
"You think Mom will make some tomato soup for us?" Dad asked the same question I was wondering.
I pursed my lips. "Let's go ask." We started walking toward the house, but before we reached it, the door slid open and Mom was waiting there.
"Derek, can I speak with you in the office?" Dad glanced at me and turned with a smile.
"Of course, Honey, can we have stew with those tomatoes tonight?" I knew Dad was flashing his best smile in hopes of bribing her with it. I rolled my eyes at his audacity.
Mom glanced around the corner of the door, straight at the ripe goodness, and nodded.
"Can you play out here for a bit, Rose? Dad and I have some work to discuss." I nodded toward Mom and let them walk away as I stood still. Hmm, they didn't close the door. I started walking back and forth along the dirt pathway, debating whether to listen in on them. My friends always asked me what my parents did for work, but I never had an answer. Not an exact one.
I knew Mom worked in her office, and Dad always spent time with me when I wasn't at school. Last time I asked Mom what she did, she just said it was "remote work". I didn't bother asking what that meant because Dad was bugging me to watch our favorite show together.
I always felt left out when the other elementary girls gushed over what their parents did for work. Frowning, I looked down at my feet, wiggling my toes like they were giving me advice. That's when I spotted some four-leaf clovers growing along the garden beds. I squatted down to pick one up, letting it choose what I should do. Picking at the clover like a princess in one of those stories, I shouldn't listen, I should, I shouldn't, I should.
Dusting my hands off, I tiptoed through the house and towards the office. Once I got up to the door, I put my hands on the sides of my face and pressed my ear against the wood. I could hear Mom speaking, but it was hard to catch everything.
"Derek...you know...she...experiment." Dad took over the conversation, but he was much louder.
"Celene, just because she's our job doesn't mean we can't make her life enjoyable."
A loud bang scared me away from the door, but I had my ear back against it just as fast.
"All I'm saying, Derek, is not to get attached." Mom sounded angry; her voice rose enough to be heard this time. Once I realized the conversation wasn't providing much about what they actually did—and that every second spent there felt like a grounding waiting to happen—I carefully pushed myself away from the door.
Silently creeping away from the office, I made my way into the garden area. I headed to my favorite bench surrounded by the flowers that my Dad and I planted. The bench was crafted together as well. I picked out the wood and paint and instructed Dad on what decorations I had wanted. I wanted a white bench with light pink handles forming a heart on both sides, some light purple vines growing into the back, up and around, swirling naturally.
I sat there for a moment, thinking about the information I'd gathered. The biggest question left a searing mark in my mind.
Who was the "she" they spoke about?