Chapter 4:

"Mommy!" I ran up to her, oblivious to the crinkling of every step.    My hair had been curled and pulled up into high pigtails, entwined with mint green ribbons to match the lace on my flower girl dress.    The white stockings, the black shoes, and the bright sparkly blush on my cheeks all brought the ensemble together perfectly.    I was the cutest girl in the whole world, and everybody knew it! "Do you like my hair?    Auntie Missa says it's the prettiest!"

Marjorie fussed and played with her little girl’s hair, which was easy to do since they were the same height, but you'd never know it from the towering presence Marjorie had over Florence with her words. "Oh look at you. You're just the most perfect little angel, my pretty Floren! Let me get some pictures; smile for Mommy, okay?"

I put my hands behind my back and smiled brightly as she pointed her phone.    The flash made me blink.    A thought came to me.    Something was wrong.    Right?    I looked down at my dress - so feminine, so... beautiful.    I looked at my polished black shoes, with the cute buckles.    But everything looked okay to me.    Maybe I was overthinking it. "Mommy, I'm hungry..." We'd been here for two hours.    The wedding would start soon, but there was time for lunch.

"Well, honey, we should get you something to eat then - but not too much, okay? Don't want my little spring bunny to have a little spring tummy in her dress, now do we?" Marjorie laughed and cuddled Florence to her side, kissing her on the cheek. "Come on, Mommy'll find you something to eat."

Mommy took me by the hand past the table of presents and out the front door, into the world outside the church.    For some reason, it surprised me.    More than just the church... the playroom, the bathroom, the prop room... it felt like I'd been here for years.    But that was silly - I wasn't even that old!    Right?    There was a sandwich shop across the street, but I hesitated at the edge of the street.    My body just... wouldn't move forward.    I didn't understand.

"Make sure to hold Mommy's hand." Marjorie expressed in a sing-song voice, and held out her hand for her little girl. Floren took her hand and held tight; the outside world was a scary place, especially for a girl her age.

Suddenly, I was very aware of my appearance.    The dress, the shoes, the pigtails... I looked around the empty street with anxiety.    Anxiety... what a familiar feeling.    But I could barely remember ever feeling it before.    Mommy walked me across the street and I took my hand back.    A few cars passed.    Were they staring?    They had to be... but why would they?    I was so confused. "Mommy... I dun wanna go in.    I wanna wear something else..."

"Oh honey, I know," Marjorie empathized, and for a moment Florence looked up at her like she was connecting dots, but all that came crashing down a moment later. "You're worried about spilling food on your pretty dress. But Mommy has a bib so you'll be able to keep it nice and safe."

I blushed and opened my mouth to protest, but Mommy took me by the wrist and led me into the sandwich shop all the same.    There was a couple sitting at a table by the window.    A man in a suit was eating along the left wall.    The shop owner stood behind the counter.    Everyone looked at me when I walked in.    Everyone knew.    Everyone was going to laugh!    Tears filled my eyes, but the worries went unfounded.    After only a moment, they went back to their meals.    I didn't understand.    Why weren't they surprised?

"Let's get you your favorite sandwich. Do you want it on the bread with the white seeds or the black seeds?" Marjorie knew the only important question worth asking - for some reason and for as long as she could remember, she knew that Floren only got one type of sandwich, no matter where they went: peanut butter and jelly. But sesame seeds vs poppy seeds? That was serious business for a girl her age.

The weird anxious feeling fell out from under me when Mommy asked the question.    I brightened up and rocked back on the heels of my shoes. "White ones, please!" Mommy ordered something elaborate, something I didn't understand.    Then she asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for me.    The man behind the counter gave me a kind smile - not at all teasing! - and went to his job.    I wish I could have smiled back, but something about this whole thing really bothered me.

The problem wasn't seeing Florence as an adult - physically speaking, that was as obvious as the sky was blue. The problem was not seeing her as a child. She acted like a child. She beamed like a child. She fussed over the bib tied around her neck, and then forgot just as quickly when she unwrapped her sandwich, just like a child. And for Marjorie, she couldn't remember Floren being anything but a child. Obviously, Marjorie was Mommy, even though she knew she hadn't given birth to her. "Do you want a pop, honey?" Marjorie asked, halfway through her own sandwich.

"Juice please," I said brightly, with my mouth full of food.    I kicked my feet in the chair like I always did, but my feet scuffed the floor.    It surprised me, just for a moment.    Were my legs really that long?    But another bite of sandwich, and the thought had disappeared.    It was so easy to make thoughts disappear.

Marjorie was proud of her little girl, proud of the way she acted, proud of the way she looked: beautiful, and adorable, and precious. She'd always been this way. "I'll be right back. Don't talk to strangers, okay?" Even though Marjorie would literally be a few feet away at the counter buying drinks.

Mommy set a sippy cup down in front of me, but when I reached for it, my fingers stopped short.    I looked at the plastic cup, then at Mommy's paper one complete with a straw.    Shouldn't I have a big girl cup?    I was a big girl... right?    I pushed my knees together and the diaper crinkled beneath the dress.    Suddenly, I was a lot less sure about that.    I put the sippy cup to my lips and sipped my apple juice.

"We should see about keeping your hair that way, Floren, you're just so cute! Maybe after the wedding we'll go and see Uncle Kaiden at his hairdressers salon and see what we can do to keep you looking this cute all the time." Kaiden wasn't her uncle, of course - actually, he was her ex three times ago, but had decided after dating Florence that he'd never date women again.

"Kaiden...?" The name rung a bell.    Someone I dated?    But I'd never dated anybody... I put my sippy cup down and shook my head.    If Kaiden saw me like this, ugh... I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. "Dun wanna." "Oh hush.    Don't get worked up." "I'm not!"

"You've been so good since we got you back in your diapers, don't be fussy now okay? Your hair looks so precious and we wanna keep it that way, don't we? All your friends at the daycare will be like 'oh look how CUTE Floren is’, and all the boys will pick you flowers from the garden."

Each word forced me deeper and deeper into the chair.    They made my heart race.    They made me so uncomfortable. "I dun need..." I looked around shyly and opted out of the word 'diapers'. "I dun need daycare!    I can take care of myself!" "Like earlier, with your wet trousers?" "That... that wasn't..." I remembered playing in the playroom.    I was so engrossed in the toys, I couldn't help myself.

"We've talked about this, darling, I know you're willful and independent, but it wouldn't be proper for me to leave you home alone when Mommy is at work. And you love your friends at daycare. You love playing, and drawing, and taking naps on those little mats. Don't you fib." This wasn't even an argument, though; this was the equivalent of holding a stick with a string out idly for a cat to tug at.

Her words echoed in my ears, and they echoed true.    Of course I loved my friends.    Of course I loved playing and drawing and taking naps.    But I couldn't remember even one time I'd done any of that.    Actually, I couldn't remember going to daycare at all.    Would they laugh at me?    I shouldn't be in diapers at my age.    I wasn't a baby... I sulked in my chair and kicked my feet against the floor.

"Don't pout, honey." Marjorie reached across the table and ran her hand up the girl’s cheek, brushing her thumb over her glossy lips.    She knew that would make Floren want to suck on it. Simple facts Marjorie had always known.

Mommy touched my lips and I took the tip of her thumb into my mouth on instinct.    Immediately, my emotions settled down and my eyes fluttered closed.    I felt... comfortable.    Safe.    When she pulled it out, I smiled.    I just couldn't help it. "That's a good girl," she said brightly. "Let's hurry back to the church." "Uh huh.    Okay, Mommy!"