Prompt #20: Writer's Choice - Rememberance

Word count: 394

"Don't forget about me!" she'd chime, a ginger sunbeam with a dazzling smile, before skipping off to explore whichever land the Hat had landed them into. She had a habit of wandering off, intrigued by this or that, and as much as he enjoyed spending time with her, he found keeping up tiresome so he preferred to let her on her own. "Don't forget about me," she'd quip each time they separated, though not without a slight anxiousness behind her smile. As if he could, as if he'd even consider it.

"Don't forget, Papa!", Grace would chide him regularly, her lips pursed and hands on her hips, every time he made a hasty promise he was not sure he could keep. He always did, though (except once, except that one damn time!), but for some reason she still felt the need to issue a warning to the reckless, irresponsible Jefferson that was still buried somewhere under the layers of his persona, though dormant and unbreathing since before she was even born.

Little Paige from the 8th house on Drury Lane assumes the same position now as she vehemently debates something with the man she is forced to call her father. An ordinary man, balding and bespectacled, who wears khaki pants and checkered flannel shirts and hides a pot belly under sweater vests in browns and beiges. Little Paige is too pretty to be his daughter. The setting sun picks out the golden tones in her hair and paints them russet like the brass telescope he clutches between sweaty palms. Jefferson blinks once, twice, swallows thickly while his trembling hands disturb the instrument's focus. The glowing silhouette burns his eyes and the beautiful child looks so much like her mother he can barely stand looking at her. No, not the plump, plain-faced woman that's stepping out of that house now. Her real mother. A gentle breeze that brings sunshine and laughter. An untamed spirit of a wood nymph with the countenance of a goddess.

No, Jefferson did not forget. He will never forget. This is something he will never fail them in. The smiling faces of his daughter and her mother keep flashing behind his lids, their eyes shining with love and forgiveness, keeping that other Jefferson silent. And for a moment, for one glorious, shining moment, the Curse doesn't seem like such a curse anymore.