rated *
Disclaimer: I stole Dot without permission from Random House. I’m not making any money off of this story, so please don’t sue me! This story is a sort of prequel to Dancing The Polka Dot. It should explain some background about Dot and her family. We’ll hopefully tell the story of Dot’s walk to buy bread soon. Enjoy!
Picnics in the Rain
by Lydia
Chapter One
“Daddy, I don’t want to go to Kindergarten,” five-year-old Dot Murray told her father. “I want to stay home with you and Mommy. I won’t know anybody there.”
“Dottie, sooner or later, everyone is going to have to do something they don’t want to do. What we go through doesn’t matter. All that matters is the attitude you have when you go through it. You can handle it in one of two ways. You can stay sad and sulk, or you can make the best of things and have a blast. So what are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna go to school and have the most fun ever?” Dot asked with a lopsided grin.
“Exactly,” her dad replied, tousling her hair. “Now you go to school, and show everyone your dazzling smile, okay? Make the best of this.”
Dot gave her dad her best bear hug and ran out the door to the awaiting bus.
Chapter Two
Dot squealed as her dad picked her up and threw her over his shoulders. After carrying her into the kitchen, he put her down and handed her a paintbrush.
“Ready to help Mommy and me paint the kitchen? Soon as we finish, you and me and Mommy are having a celebration picnic, all right?”
“But Daddy,” Dottie replied. “It’s raining outside.”
“Which is why we have to hurry. Can’t miss a chance to dance in a good summer rain, can we?”
“Nope,” she said with a smile. She soon frowned as she looked at the big kitchen and their small paintbrushes hopelessly.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” her mom said. “Time will fly.”
Dot giggled as her parents pretended their brushes were microphones and began dancing and singing around the room. Dot grabbed her father’s hands and spun around with him, painting as she went.
Chapter Three
Dot Murray stepped out the doors of her elementary school into the brisk December air. She threw her backpack on the ground and spun around in circles, catching snowflakes on her tongue. She gasped as she saw the bus arriving at the bus stop, and she grabbed her backpack and ran to the bus with her friends. Third grade was fun, but Dot had to admit that she was glad it was finally Christmas break.
“Bye, everyone,” she called as she climbed off the bus. She caught one more flake on her tongue before running inside. She chuckled at the random splattered colors on her kitchen wall that she had painted with her parents a few years ago. It was much better than the plain white it had been, in her opinion. She found her mom in the family room dusting off the tables.
“Hi, sweetie!” her mom called to her. “Let’s go get those ornaments from the basement and bring them upstairs. When Daddy gets home, we’ll decorate the tree and make new ornaments to put on there.”
After bringing up ornaments and materials to make more, her mom asked her, “In the meantime, want to help me dust?”
Dot smiled, nodded, and began dusting with her mom.
Several hours later, Dot lay in front of the fire reading, while her mother washed the dishes--for the third time that evening. Dot looked at her mother. She looked worried. She wasn’t humming like she usually did, and after all, she had washed the dishes three times.
“Mama,” Dot called. “It’s eight o clock. Daddy should have been home two hours ago. Where is he? Dinner’s gotten cold.”
“I’m sure he’s just running late, sweetie,” her mom assured her, but the look of concern and the shakiness in her mom’s voice didn’t escape Dot’s notice. She opened her mouth to inform her mom that her dad normally called when he was going to be late, but she decided she didn’t want to worry her. Her mom put the last dishes away and sat on the couch to read with her daughter. The phone rang. Her mother answered, and Dot watched intently.
“One minute, please,” her mother said as she took the phone into the other room, motioning for Dot to stay there.
Dot was worried. She could tell something was wrong. She ran to the door and tried to listen to what her mom was saying. The fact that she couldn’t hear anything mixed with the fact that her parents had taught her never to eavesdrop led her to go back and sit on the couch and just wait. Finally, her mom came back in. Her eyes were puffy and red.
“Mama?” Dot asked with a shaky voice. “Where’s Daddy?”
Chapter Four
“Thanks for being such a trooper, Dot,” her mom said to her now eleven-year-old daughter.
“No problem, Mom,” Dot replied. “I like working in the shop. It’s fun.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t be forced to come home after school every day and work here.”
“It’s all right. Everyone goes through hard times, and sooner or later, we’ll all have to do something we don’t want to do,” she said with a smile.
It was Christmas time again, the time when the shop had most of its business. She looked around the basement they called a shop. The room was full of odd little knickknacks she and her mom had made, whether it was out of paint, clay, or anything they could get their hands on. It wasn’t much, but ever since her dad had died in that car accident, they did whatever they could to make money. The shop did surprisingly well. It was a nice place to go gift shopping.
“Welcome,” she said warmly when she turned to find customers behind her.
Her mom came up behind her. “Dot, sweetie, I can handle things here. Will you run to the store and buy us some bread?
When Dot returned with the bread, her mother had soup set on the table.
“Sorry we don’t have much tonight, Dot,” her mother said. “As soon as it gets a little closer to Christmas, business will be booming, but for now it’s a little slow.”
Dot took a deep breath, then smiled a genuine smile, thinking about all that had taken place on her trip to get bread but a half hour ago.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Dot replied. “Really,” she added to herself with a smie. “Let’s make the best of this.”
The End