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Little Bonnie, barely four years old, was in her room, sitting on her bed, with Jessie in her little hands. They had already been living there for three months, three months since everything changed, since they left behind what had been their home for so many years and arrived at this new house, with soft-colored walls and shelves full of space for everyone. Three months in which, little by little, every corner of the room and every corner of the girl's heart had been filled with them.
But of all the toys that shared that space, there was one that shone with its own light: Jessie. She was, without a doubt, Bonnie's favorite. The girl chose her over and over again, without hesitation. She spent long hours playing with her as the absolute protagonist: she dressed and undressed her with clothes she made, sat her at her table with toy plates, took her for walks around the house, hugged her when she saw something that scared her, and whenever her mother asked what toy she wanted to take somewhere, the answer was almost always the same: "To Jessie!"
And she loved it —it filled her heart with joy, it was such a warm happiness that it seemed to illuminate her from within— but at the same time, every caress, every glance, every shared hour left her with a bittersweet taste, a gentle melancholy that tightened her chest when she thought no one was watching. Because everything felt so much like what she had lived through years ago, the way Bonnie looked at her, the way she cared for her, everything brought back the days with Emily. And then her mind, without her wanting it, began to ask her the same cruel questions over and over again: Until when? When will he stop looking at me like that? Will the day come when he sets me aside and no longer seeks me? Will it all end the same, stored in a box or forgotten under a bed, waiting for years for someone who won't come?
She made an immense effort not to let herself be carried away by those thoughts. She consoled herself, in silence, when the room fell quiet: It won't be the same. We have already been through the worst. The events of those years were already behind us, the terror of Sunny Side was behind us, and now we are safe. We will have many years of games, laughter, and adventures. I will be here, alongside Bonnie, alongside Woody, alongside all my friends, and especially alongside him.
Since they left the daycare behind, she and Buzz had grown closer and closer. They had confessed what they both felt, those feelings that had grown in silence for so long, hidden behind missions and worries and fears. And yet, now that everything was said, now that they knew they felt it for each other, still every gesture, every encounter, every distant glance made both their hearts skip a beat. There was still shyness, there was still that new and precious excitement of knowing they no longer had to hide.
Lost in all those thoughts, in memories and hopes, Jessie didn't realize what was happening. While Bonnie played with her, her little hands were unraveling, strand by strand, with surprising delicacy, the reddish wool braid that Jessie had worn for as long as she could remember. She didn't do it hurriedly or roughly; she did it carefully, as if she knew it was something important, something that was part of her. And as the braid unraveled, the girl was already thinking: When I'm done, I'll style her hair nicely. If I can't braid it again, I'll ask mom and she'll help me.
—Bonnie, dear —Mrs. Anderson's voice called softly from the door, which opened letting in a bit of light from the hallway—, it's time to go. Your father is waiting for us in the car.
The girl looked up immediately, and instead of letting Jessie go, she held her tighter, with pride, showing her just as she was now, with her hair down falling over her shoulders.
"Look, Mom!" Look how pretty Jessie looks like this!
Mrs. Anderson smiled, taking a few steps closer to the bed, and gently stroked her daughter's head. —You are absolutely right, she looks beautiful. Don't worry about her hairstyle, okay? When we get back home, I'll help you redo her braid, you'll see it will look just as beautiful as always.
Bonnie nodded happily, and then her eyes sparkled with a new hope. —Can I take her with me? Just her, please, Mom, I'll behave and take care of her.
"I'm very sorry, dear," her mother replied tenderly, stroking her cheek, "but we won't have time to play there." Jessie will be just fine here, waiting for you in her bed, and when you return, you can play as much as you want with her, okay?
The little one slightly slumped her shoulders, a bit disappointed, but nodded without protesting. With great care, she placed Jessie on the pillow, arranging her to make her comfortable, and set her hat and bow aside, neatly ordered, as if they were very valuable objects.
"I'll be back soon," he whispered before taking his mother's hand. Don't go anywhere.
They walked together to the door, and before going out, Bonnie paused for a moment, turned her head, and waved goodbye to all her toys.
"Goodbye, toys."
The door closed gently, and the warm silence enveloped the room once more.
A few minutes passed before everything fell into complete silence. Then Jessie moved slowly. She extended a hand and ran her fingers through his hair. It was loose. Loose for the first time in her life. The red strands slid smoothly between her fingers, light, without knots, without the pressure of the braid she had always worn. It looked a little longer than it had ever been, because for years it had been tied up, hidden. She smiled, alone in the room, thinking about how sweet Bonnie had been, how proud she had looked showing it to her, how carefully she had left it there.
The other toys were gradually starting to come out of their hiding spots. "Jessie?" Woody's voice pulled her out of her trance, coming from the edge of the bed. Are you okay? Everything okay up there?
"—All good," she replied softly, continuing to stroke his hair. I'm here, I'm fine.
She kept looking at her hands, the strands that fell over her chest. What will they think?, she wondered. Will I seem strange to them like this? She took her hat in her hands, hesitating whether to put it on immediately to look like she always did, when she felt the weight of small steps on the soft quilt.
It was Bullseye, who had climbed up very carefully, without making a sound, approaching her. He stopped right in front of Jessie, and his large, dark eyes fixed on her hair, scanning it with curiosity and surprise. Its tail moved back and forth, incessantly, joyfully, unable to stay still.
—Do you like it? Bonnie made it. —she asked with a shy smile, stroking the horse's neck.
The horse whinnied softly, almost like a sigh, and nodded energetically, taking a small step toward her. Jessie let out a soft laugh and stroked his neck. "Thank you, friend." I like it too.
Just at that moment, two more pairs of hands appeared at the edge of the bed. Woody and Buzz climbed up together, slowly, and both stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they saw her.
"We thought you would come down with us," Woody started, and then he kept looking at her, with a smile that grew little by little. Wow, your hair...
"It was Bonnie," she explained, gently running her fingers over a strand that fell over her shoulder. She was letting it go while we were playing, so slowly that I didn't even notice.
"Well, it looks great on you, Jess," Woody said warmly. You look lovely. Don't you think so, Buzz?
Buzz didn't respond immediately. He was there, standing, looking at her, and it seemed he had forgotten how to speak. A soft and warm blush crept up her cheeks, and her eyes widened a bit more than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, the firm voice he always had.
—I- yes- I mean... —he started, and he had to pause—. You're right, Woody. You look... you look beautiful, Jessie. Really.
Jessie felt her own heart race. She knew it was no longer a secret, she knew he felt the same way she did, and yet, seeing him like that, speechless, so moved... she loved knowing she had that effect on him.
"Thank you, Buzz," she said, moving a little closer, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek while gently taking his hand, feeling him shiver slightly. Come on, we should go down with the others. I'm sure everyone is waiting for us.
Woody nodded and was the first to move toward the stairs. Bullseye followed closely. Jessie began to walk behind them, and Buzz stayed for a moment longer, watching her, lost in his thoughts, until suddenly his wings unfolded on their own, with a soft little buzz, as if his body had suddenly remembered that it needed to move. He almost stumbled over his own feet, caught his breath abruptly, put his wings away again, and followed her down, with a smile so big he could barely hide it.