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“Daddy, it’s really cold.”
“I know Truce, we’ll get the heater fixed by the end of the week, alright? I just gotta make some …calls.”
With that, he smiled crookedly, and gently exited the room with a ringing phone.
Even if wrapped up with blankets, Trucy is shivering, nose red, lips chapped and a little pale. It is in the middle of winter, harsh winds and meters of snow that almost seem like hills pile up outside of their apartment building.
Daddy outright told Trucy that there wouldn’t be any show happening in the dead of winter, like a snow day from school. But no show means no money. When she told him that, he looked a little upset, and told her to enjoy her snow day instead. She supposes that snow days are pretty nice, as like the other ten year old kids, Trucy didn’t like school as much.
She didn’t like math in the slightest. Numbers made her head hurt, and she thinks that school hours can be used for practicing magic instead. Which is something she couldn’t do in school, the teachers claimed that it was “disruptive to the class,” or whatever that means. Adults are just boring sometimes, and need a little magic to spice it up. The other children think she’s the coolest kid ever, thank you very much.
“Hey, it’s me. Hope you still remember.”
“... ridiculous …….. Wright. Have you ….. offer ……. back?”
“No, no. How many times did I tell you— Look, it’s for Trucy, alright? No need to bring her into this.”
“…. wouldn’t be calling…..… I help?”
It wasn’t hard to listen in on conversations in quite the small apartment. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop really, but she got ears, what she gotta do? Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. Trucy holds tight to her blanket and with her magic feet, she silently follows the sound of his voice.
Daddy is leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand on his phone and one hand brushing his hair back. His hair had gotten longer these months, and the last time there was a scissor involved, it was a huge disaster. It was flat and gloomy like their neighbor’s plants, unlike the spikes that he wore on that day.
Daddy wouldn’t admit it, but whenever he calls the strange man on the phone, his eyes soften a lot. From tired, sad ones to something akin of affection. It’s the same expression he always wore around Trucy, but different at the same time, like it spoke of history and all the complications that came from it.
His hands are a lot less hidden, open in a way that she only saw before… well, before Daddy was Trucy’s daddy. Trucy has never met this man, and Daddy is pretty cagey when you ask him about him, but she thinks that she’ll really like this man when they meet.
Trucy silently goes back to her room, and enters her pillow fort. The fairy lights surround her and lights up the whole place. It’s a lot warmer in her little cave, but it really isn’t much. She misses summer quite a bit, sometimes she’d get ice cream as a reward for a good show, and ice cream is always nice to eat. Her ice cream melts fast under the blazing heat, and it drips all over the pavement. It’s a huge waste of ice cream, and the first time they bought one, she really got upset about it. But, he just said that it was fine, and gave her his own ice cream.
She looks at her bedroom walls. It’s filled with pictures and posters of her shows that Daddy helped make. Daddy does a lot of stuff, like painting her walls blue, designing posters and patching up her outfit. He’s quite clumsy with the sewing machine, it’s ancient like him and really loud to use, but Daddy still attempts to make her stuffed toys regardless. She cuddles the bunny plush — the newest one he made — inviting it into her pillow fort. Trucy wants to tell him that she’s a big girl now that doesn’t need the stuffed toys, but cuddling them makes her feel a little warmer and better.
Her gaze lands on the pile of yarn she had gotten for her birthday, full of various colors and different yarn weights. It’s an assortment that includes crochet hooks, stitch markers and knitting needles that she haphazardly stuck inside the yarn balls. It was like a lightbulb that clicked on. The idea chimes in her ears.
…. Maybe it’s finally time to make something for her Daddy in return.
☆☆☆
She grabs her supplies and brings them inside the pillow fort. The yarn is soft, a pretty blue and a shade of pink similar to its hue. Her circular knitting needles dangle over her arms, long enough for the beanie she wants to make. It’s quite spacious inside, giving her enough wiggle room to knit. She cast on the amount of stitches she needed, and began the process for her stockinette stitch.
Her metal knitting needles clack peacefully just like the falling snow outside her window.
Trucy starts to hum as she completes the first two rows of her beanie. This beanie will protect him from the cold, especially on nights where he plays poker. His jacket is warm, but not warm enough for the winter season. He had always insisted that it was fine and Trucy was the one who needed more coats. Sometimes she feels like a cotton ball on winter days, rolling her way to school. Daddy said that he’ll catch her if she did roll down a hill, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.
She stops halfway through, grabs a notebook, drawing boxes according to the amount of stitches she’s done. She shades certain areas for the other half she hasn’t done yet. She counted the position of each shaded box, writing their numbers down and went back to work.
She prepares her pink yarn, joining the thread, changing colors on the stitches she counted and eventually, the word “Papa” slowly appears in her project. It isn’t perfect in the first try or the second try, but that’s what progress is, knowing when it’s good to start over.
Starting over isn’t inherently bad, it just means there's more room to try harder. That’s what Trucy learns in her magic shows, it’s the result of hard work and even when her props get ruined or the show goes sideways, it will always go on as long as she never gives up on it.
A friend of daddy told him that “the only time a lawyer can cry is when it's all over.” Daddy told her it doesn’t really mean that you can’t tear up when something goes wrong, but how she shouldn’t give up easily. She can see how his eyes looked nostalgic for a second, then hurt, like it was a painful memory. Trucy understood, and as usual, he praised her for being a smart girl and kissed her on the forehead that day.
Trucy hopes that with this beanie, her daddy wouldn’t give up ever. That they’ll find happiness like those fairytales with shining armor and her and Pearly read once. Where he could smile with the biggest grin and shining eyes like he once did. But this time, Trucy will be there too. Daddy said that they’ll be family forever, and he said this with the most honest eyes that makes you believe it’s the utmost truth. Like it was just simply written in the universe that Phoenix Wright will be there for you despite everything.
She supposes that’s what her daddy is good with, being kind. She just hopes that people are kind back to him too.
And just like that, the beanie is done. Trucy casts off her stitches carefully and marvels proudly at her work. She hugs it, sealing the love and care into the stitches, the not-so-secret final ingredient into any craft.
“I bet he’ll cry once he sees this.” Trucy whispers to herself, because the fact that her Daddy loves her just as much as she does, maybe even more, is the simplest fact in the world.