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The library is her second favorite place in the world - right after the museum, of course. And any time spent in the library makes up for the time spent in the car to get there. On good days, they walk, all three of them holding hands. But mommy has a cold today and it's snowing, so daddy drives while mommy takes a nap.
Cheryl knows exactly what will make her feel better.
"So, honey, what are we looking for today?" Daddy's hand is still a little cold from the wind outside. She can feel it through her mittens, a touch too big for her hands. Her scarf tickles the skin around her nose, and she squints as she tries not to sneeze. The librarian always jokes that she cleans the dust out of old books when she's here, but today is important. She's got to keep her hand steady. "Dinosaurs again?"
Cheryl nods, tugging on his hand to pull him over to the big display of dinosaur books at the front of the children's section.
"That one," she says, her voice muffled by the scarf. She waves at a large tome with a friendly-looking brontosaurus on the front. Daddy gets a hold of it, making pretend like it's the heaviest book in the bulding. He lets Cheryl lead them to a table, setting the book down in front of her.
He looks silly, trying to sit at the kid's table with her, his knees nearly touching his chest as he crouches in the tiny chair. But Cheryl prizes his company, daddy leaning over to read the words aloud for her, guiding her through her stutter.
"This one," she declares, tapping the glossy image. It reads, archeaopteryx.
"This one?" daddy repeats. "What are we doing with this one?"
"Drawing!" Cheryl sets her sketchbook on the table, grabbing a pencil from the cup. Normally she traces, trying to memorize where each line falls so she can replicate it on her own later. But today she's feeling confident, tongue stuck between her teeth, copying what she sees. Daddy stays by her side the whole time, sneaking glances when he thinks she can't see. He's working in his own notebook, filled with scribbles Cheryl can barely read.
The feathers take the longest, but she thinks they're worth it. She can tell daddy thinks so too, looking over and nodding.
"What color is he going to be?"
"She," Cheryl corrects.
"Oh, of course. What color is she going to be?"
Cheryl taps on her lips, thinking. In the book, she looks almost blue, but the blue reminds Cheryl of the cold outside. And this is a special archeaopteryx, so she can be a special color, right? She stands without answering, heading for the librarian's desk. She thinks the words she wants to say as she approaches, preparing to ask for crayons, but the librarian has beaten her to it.
"When are you going to draw one for me?" they say, handing her the packet.
She's pretty sure they're joking. They have that look in their eyes that daddy always gets before he tells a really silly joke - the kind that makes mommy groan and shake her head. All the same, Cheryl smiles brightly. "Tomorrow," she promises. Even if they have to come after school.
"I'll save a place on my desk," they promise in return.
The coloring takes a while - who can say how long? - and Cheryl's hand hurts when she puts on the finishing touch: 'Get well soon!' in her best handwriting.
"Don't forget to sign it," daddy says. He extends his pen, a small smile on his face. He must know how important this is, if he's offering his fancy writing pen to her!
"You have to sign it - sign it, too," she insists. "That's how cards work." Daddy nods, accepting the pen back. His own name is written in a looping style she hasn't learned yet, but she knows it all the same. The big 'H' is comforting to look at. She hopes it will be for mommy, too.
"Are we ready to go?" daddy asks once he's finished. Cheryl nods, already pulling her coat and mittens back on. She hears daddy chuckle, turning in his little chair to help her bundle up. He takes the card as well, sliding it between the pages of his own notebook. "To keep it safe," he tells her. She takes her sketchbook, holding it close to her chest, hoping the quickly falling snow won't dampen the pages.
Daddy offers her his hand again.
"Ready to brave the storm?"
With him, she always will be.