She has been sitting on my lap for an hour. My thigh feels numb. But she refuses to get down. She is running a slight fever and draws assurance and comfort from my body warmth.
After a while, I urge her again to get down and play with her dollies or watch some TV. But she says, “No!” End of conversation. Her ‘No’ to TV worries me. She loves TV.
I like being near to her. But it’s been a while now and I really feel like stretching my legs. But she wouldn’t have any of it. I look at the clock. It’s 10 minutes past 7. When will her father reach home? I wonder. I know apart from me, only her father can comfort her.
The next second, I hear the sound of a key being inserted in the keyhole. She must have heard the sound too, because she straightens up. And then her father enters. Seeing her father, she jumps with joy and gets off my lap to run to her father. My lap is suddenly free. As the blood rushes through my veins once again, I can feel the sensation back in my legs. But my heart feels cold and bereft as if I have lost something valuable. I miss her. I want her back in my lap, close to my heart.
I wonder now, who was drawing comfort from whom?