That afternoon, Nanny Zima took me shopping.
The moment she told me we were leaving the estate, I nearly forgot all about the uncomfortable meeting with the Lutherals.
Almost.
I had never been shopping before.
Not properly.
My mommy bought what we needed when she could afford it. Sometimes we went to small stores near our apartment. Sometimes she brought things home after work.
But a shopping mall?
I'd only ever seen those on television.
---
The building was enormous.
Bright lights shone from every direction.
Music drifted through the air.
People moved everywhere.
Families.
Couples.
Children.
It felt like the entire city had somehow gathered under one roof.
I stood frozen near the entrance with my mouth hanging open.
Nanny Zima laughed.
A real laugh.
Not mean.
Not mocking.
Just amused.
"Close your mouth, Meri."
I immediately snapped it shut.
Then opened it again a few seconds later when I saw an escalator.
---
The entire day felt like stepping into another world.
Nanny Zima led me through store after store.
Clothes.
Shoes.
Jackets.
Dresses.
Things I didn't even know existed.
Everywhere I looked, there was more.
More colors.
More choices.
More everything.
---
At first, I felt uncomfortable.
Nothing in these stores looked like it belonged to someone like me.
The dresses were too pretty.
The shoes were too expensive.
The mirrors were too clean.
I kept expecting someone to tell us we were in the wrong place.
Nobody did.
---
Nanny Zima handed me dress after dress.
I tried them on obediently.
Some were too long.
Some were too short.
Some made me look like a birthday cake.
Others made me look like a doll.
Every time I stepped out of the changing room, she tilted her head thoughtfully before deciding yes or no.
I secretly enjoyed it.
---
The shoes were even more surprising.
I had never owned more than a few pairs at a time.
Now there were rows and rows of them.
Tiny shoes.
Shiny shoes.
Sparkly shoes.
Shoes with ribbons.
Shoes with bows.
Shoes that looked too beautiful to walk in.
When Nanny Zima bought several pairs, I kept peeking inside the shopping bags to make sure they were still there.
Part of me expected them to disappear.
---
For a little while, I forgot how worried I was.
Forgot about hospitals.
Forgot about my missing mother.
Forgot about the strange house waiting for us.
I was just a six-year-old girl staring at things she'd never imagined owning.
And it felt nice.
---
Then something happened.
Something small.
Something that shouldn't have mattered as much as it did.
---
I reached for a jacket hanging on a rack.
At the exact same moment, another little girl reached for it too.
I touched it first.
At least, I think I did.
Before I could even decide what to do, a man appeared beside her.
Her father.
Though I didn't know that immediately.
I only understood after watching them.
---
The man didn't look at me.
Not once.
He simply took the jacket from my hands.
Handed it to his daughter.
Smoothed her hair.
Then smiled down at her.
The entire exchange lasted only a few seconds.
Afterward, they walked away together.
His hand rested lightly on her shoulder as they disappeared into the crowd.
---
I stood there holding nothing.
Watching them go.
The strange feeling arrived immediately.
A small ache.
Right in the center of my chest.
At first, I didn't understand it.
I wasn't upset about the jacket.
Not really.
There were hundreds of jackets in the store.
Maybe thousands.
It wasn't about that.
---
It was the way he'd looked at her.
The way he'd stepped forward without being asked.
The way he'd automatically chosen her side.
Protected her.
Claimed space for her.
As though it was the most natural thing in the world.
---
My mommy had always told me my father wasn't a good person.
That was all she'd ever say.
No stories.
No explanations.
Just those words.
He isn't a good person.
So I had learned not to ask questions.
Not to wonder.
Not to want things I couldn't have.
---
But standing there in the middle of that store, I found myself watching other fathers.
Once I noticed them, they seemed to be everywhere.
Holding hands.
Carrying shopping bags.
Lifting children onto their shoulders.
Listening to excited stories they had probably heard a hundred times before.
Simple things.
Ordinary things.
Things I had never experienced.
---
A lump formed in my throat.
Because suddenly I understood something.
You can miss something you've never had.
People say you can't.
They're wrong.
You can.
Especially when you see it everywhere around you.
Especially when everyone else seems to have received something that never arrived for you.
---
Nanny Zima appeared beside me.
She followed my gaze.
Then looked back at me.
Something softened in her expression.
She didn't ask what I was thinking.
Maybe she already knew.
Instead, she gently took my hand.
"Come on, Meri."
Her voice was warm.
"We'll find something better."
---
I nodded.
And let her lead me away.
But as we continued through the mall, my thoughts stayed behind.
Following the father and daughter who had long since disappeared into the crowd.
Watching the way his hand rested on her shoulder.
The easy way she leaned toward him.
The certainty that he would always be there.
And for the first time in my life, I realized something.
I wasn't just missing my mommy.
I was missing someone I had never even met.