The Explanation

“Richard, darling,” Marigold knocked on the door to the garage. There was no answer. “Richard, sweetie, I need to talk to you.” There was a shuffling noise, a few bangs, as though items were being hurriedly put away. Light, quick footsteps, and then the door was eased back, showing a pale face.

“Yes?” Richard blinked at the visitor for a few moments, waiting for his thoughts to clear. Marigold waited patiently. Richard’s face cleared in recognition, before covering over in confusion again. “Marigold, dear, what is it you want?”

“I think it’s time we told her.”

“Who?”

“Aoife.”

“Who?”

Marigold smiled patiently. She was used to Richard and his ways, they made him unique, and loveable. “Our daughter, dear.”

“Our daughter…” Richard continued to sound flummoxed.

“Yes, dear. Small, brown hair, blue eyes, often present at the dinner table when you eat.”

“Oh. Aoife.”

“Yes, dear.”

“What about her?”

“I think it’s time we told her.”

“Told her what, dear.”

“About how she was born.”

“And how was that, dear?”

Marigold lifted her hand, running it across Richard’s cheek.

“You remember, dear. It was January 7^th, thirteen years ago. It was a warm night, almost unnaturally so. All those mosquitoes and flies, and barely a breeze to stir the air. Muffy, our cat, had just left us, run over in the street, poor dear, but she’s doing better now, I talk to her often, she has a number of other cat friends with whom she spends time…” Marigold noticed Richard shifting uneasily, as if he wanted to close the door, and drift back to his work. “But anyway, dear, that was the day that she came to us. I so longed for a child, especially with the pain if losing Muffy, and so I opened my arms to Mother Earth, and she came to us. The most gorgeous little girl, just lying there on the door step. All pink and wriggly, with those big blue eyes that looked up at you like she could see your very soul. Not a peep out of her. Oh she was a beautiful baby, my baby.” Richard nodded, if he thought very carefully, he could remember being told this story before. But almost as if it had been acted out…as though, he’d actually seen it. “You were there dear, you saw her on the doorstep, how she looked at you, before she closed her eyes and slept.” Richard nodded again, he had a vague memory of something like that happening. That was the night he’d discovered Extranium, an exciting new by-product of the solar energy process. He’d despaired of ever finding it, and then his assistant, Jeremy, had come into his office with this jar of unknown fuel, seeking an answer. It was almost as if it was a gift from the gods.

“I think she should be told, Richard. Every child should know about their birth, where they come from. It is time.” Richard just nodded. Thinking about the Extranium had reminded him of some promising research he’d meant to pursue. “Whatever you think is best, dear,” he replied. Marigold smiled and nodded her head softly at him. “Tonight, then.” And running her finger tips along his cheek once more, she drifted back to her parlour, to prepare for the event.

A knock at the door startled Aoife out of her thoughts. She pushed the book off her lap, as her mother poked her head through the open door. “Dinner is almost ready, Aoife,” she said. Aoife nodded. “But come down with me now, darling, there is something I must tell you. Something you must know.” And with that announcement she disappeared again in a click of beads, footsteps pressing down the hall. Aoife stood uncertainly, not sure what her parents knew, or should have known, or what they were to tell her. She left the book lying on her bed, and headed downstairs.

Aoife started slightly as she entered the room and saw her father sitting at the table. Not only was he present, but he was looking at her, with a determined expression, as if he was ensuring that he didn’t forget who she was and why she was here. He was holding Marigold’s hand, loosely, but holding it nonetheless. Aoife must have looked surprised, because Richard blushed slightly and looked away.

“Come in, darling,” beckoned Marigold. “We wanted to talk to you.” She squeezed Richard’s hand, and stood up, floating towards Aoife, with her arms outstretched. She grasps her shoulders and looked down into her face. “My Aoife,” she said, and kissed her on the forehead. “Sit, sit.” And she guided Aoife to a chair.

“I think it’s time for us to tell you about where you came from,” Marigold began. Aoife began to blush. Now I know why Dad was so uncomfortable, she thought.

“Ummm, Mum, Dad, I really sorta know all this already. You don’t have to go through this with me. They explained at school, you know, about sex and that.” Aoife ducked her head, cheeks burning.

“Oh my darling, no,” said Marigold. No? thought Aoife. What does she mean, ‘no’?

“Sex is important, and you should know about that, but what we need to talk you about is where you came from.”

“Uh, Mum? I’m not sure I understand. I know where I came from, that’s what happens when…when two people have sex.” Aoife was so embarrassed all her words were blurring together, rushing out of her mouth in their haste to be said and done.

“Yes, darling, ordinarily that is where children come from. But you are not ordinary. Sit down, darling, it’s time for you to hear about your arrival into this world…”