“Olly,” I cut in, finally finding my voice to break his stream-of-consciousness.“He’ll go on forever if you let him.”
“I don’t mind,” she says, a little breathless.
“Did you really pick up a snake with yourbarehands?”He cocks his head at her with scrutiny.
“Several times,” she answers.“The last time, I became friends with aSanzinia madagascariensisor a Malagasy tree boa in Madagascar.”
Olly giggles.“You talk funny.”
Venus’s eyes catch mine over our shared memory—I said the same thing to her over our first lunch together in second grade.
A sad smile escapes her as she says, “So I’ve been told.Do you like snakes?”
“Eh, they’re a bit scary,” he admits with a light shrug.
“Well, some are very dangerous.You should never pick one up without knowing what type it is, if it’s venomous, or if it seems nervous or unfriendly,” she explains, “but snakes are often misunderstood… Oh, I have something you might like.”
She holds up a finger and unzips her fanny pack.She digs inside the overstuffed bag until she pulls out what appears to be an ordinary brown rock.
“This reminds me not to be afraid,” she says.“All creatures are treasures.”
He raises his hands and his brow at once.“It’s just a rock.”
She flips the rock over.“No, it’s a fossil.”
My kid’s head practically explodes with awe.
I step closer to see the soft, pale outline of a curled skeleton, small but embedded clearly in the stone.The snake’s tiny skull reveals even tinier fangs.Olly runs his fingers over it, but only after she does.
“I named him Mango,” she says, “after the Mangoky River where I found him.”
“Aw, he’s so cute,” Olly coos, touching him again.
“Now, you’ve touched a snake, too,” she says, flashing a soft smile.
Olly holds the stone up toward me.“Dad!I touched a snake!”
I barely manage a nod—I’m so shocked by the scene unfolding before me.Olly is his usual exuberant self times ten—that’s typical.But Venus isn’t what I thought she’d be at all.
Most adults act differently around children.They put on happy faces, explain things with simple words, and even use higher-pitched voices.
But Venus doesn’t change for him, except to allow his affection.She stays herself unequivocally.And my affection for her grows more for it.She’s passed the test easily, while I’ve made our situation harder.
I couldn’t let Venus Blake go when I was angry.How will I let her go after this?What’s to stop me from falling in love with this woman all over again?
A weird surge of protection and perhaps self-preservation overcomes me, forcing my hand on Olly’s shoulder and squeezing him gently toward me.Away from her.
Venus stands, her green eyes landing on mine in guarded curiosity, as if wondering if she’s done something wrong.
She hasn’t, but this isn’t what I expected.I’m not sure if it’s even what I want.I’ve never seen my son so elated, and I’m with him every Christmas morning.Wouldn’t it have been better for her to remain a mystery?A figment of his imagination?
Imaginary friends don’t leave.
“That’s great, Olly, but we should leave Venus alone to finish the garden.”I manage, my mouth going dry.“Say goodbye to her and Mango.”
Olly’s face contorts from happy to devastated in a flash.“Dad, do I have to?”
“No, please keep Mango,” she says, refusing to take it.“He’s traveled all this way and needs a better home than my fanny pack.”
