There we were, the three of us, getting ready in our bathroom. I was in my usual spot to the right, Mason stood to the left, and Clare sat on the sink. We are a small family of three, but we are loud, constantly talking over one another without care as to what is being said. Playful chattering. We're like baby birds with full bellies in a nest vying for another dangling worm. On this morning, we chirped and preened in the mirror together.
talking, hair dryers, running water, electric tooth brushes, tapping toes, clapping hands, humming, singing, laughing
In all of this noise, I heard the faintest little voice coming from Clare. I did not notice what she was saying at first, as much as I noticed how quiet it was. Her face looked at a toy in her lap and she was repeating the word over and over. I stopped and leaned in to listen. “Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, Damnit.” I recoiled and looked at her in the mirror without saying anything. She looked at me and smiled. It was a cunning look. The game had begun. I instantly asked her to repeat what she had been saying so quietly the moment before. Of course I had heard her, but Mason had not. He wasn't convinced. She continued with that irreverent smile and boldly said, “C-a-n-d-y,” at the same time she arched her eyebrows at me (daring me). I looked at Mason. We didn’t say a word. She had lied…to me…on purpose! I collected myself, looked straight at her as unaffected as I could, and told her that I knew she had definitely not said the word 'candy'. I told her she needed to tell me what she said. She refused. When backed into a corner she’s formidable, so I gave her room, and this empty game continued. “Clare, I know you did not say ‘candy’. Now you’re not going to get in trouble, but I need to know what word you were saying.” Her face soften and showed signs of giving in. I pressed on with less interest and more intensity. I wanted her to want tell me the truth. I’m not sure why I cared, but I needed it from her. Honestly, I don’t care if she lies. People lie. It’s part of human nature. I only care that she be able to tell the truth when the time is right.
“You know Clare, we’re Boyds and Boyds tell the truth. You know that right?”
Of course, this was a lie that she’ll figure out one day just like Santa Claus isn’t real…but that is another story. I tried to look at her with as little expression on my face as possible. She was reading me. Our game went on as I tried to pry the truth out of her with my under emphasized words. She tried (harder) to decide if I was worthy of the truth. My patience was wearing thin. She continued to refuse me, looking for cracks.
I once prayed for patience. I mistakenly thought that I would become patient overnight by some miracle. I didn’t realize that God has a wonderful sense of humor.
Finally, as I half pleaded with her to tell me the truth, she repeated the word, “Damnit!”
I squealed, hugged her, and kissed her face. I was proud of her, not only because she told the truth, but for the reason she told the truth. She did so when she was certain it was safe. It is a survival skill to be able to interpret someone’s intent. I think Mason was horrified. I’m not really sure. He shook his head as he walked out of the bathroom. Then it was just the two of us and we laughed. She is mine and I am hers.