Two years after my wife passed, I remarried, hoping to rebuild our family. But when my five-year-old daughter whispered, “Daddy, new mom’s different when you’re gone,” I was floored. Strange noises from a locked attic, strict rules, and Arden’s fear sparked a mystery I couldn’t ignore.
I never thought I’d find love again after losing Maris. Grief hollowed out my heart, making breathing feel like a chore for months. Then Elowyn stepped into my life, all warm smiles and quiet patience, and somehow, she made the world feel lighter—not just for me, but for Arden too. My daughter took to her immediately, which felt like a miracle after the rough two years we’d had.
The first time Arden met Elowyn at the park, she clung to the swing set, not ready to leave.
“Just five more minutes, Daddy,” she begged, her little legs pumping higher.
Elowyn walked up, her sundress catching the late afternoon light, and said something that changed everything:
“I bet you could brush the clouds if you swung just a bit higher.”
Arden’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“That’s what I believed when I was your age,” Elowyn replied with a wink. “Want me to give you a push?”
When Elowyn suggested we move into her inherited home after our wedding, it seemed perfect. The house was stunning, with high ceilings and intricate woodwork that whispered old-world charm. Arden’s eyes went wide when she saw her new bedroom.
“It’s like a princess room, Daddy!” she squealed, spinning in circles. “Can I paint the walls blue?”
“We’ll have to ask Elowyn, sweetheart. It’s her house.”
“Our house now,” Elowyn corrected softly, squeezing my hand. “And blue sounds perfect, Arden. We can pick the shade together.”
Then I had to leave for a week-long business trip—my first big one since the wedding. I was uneasy about leaving my little family when things still felt so fresh.
“You’ll be fine,” Elowyn assured me, handing me a travel mug of coffee. “And so will we. Arden and I will have some fun girl time.”
“We’re gonna paint my nails, Daddy!” Arden piped up as I knelt to kiss her forehead.
Everything seemed fine. But when I got back, Arden nearly tackled me with a hug, clinging to me like she did right after Maris passed.
Her little body shook as she whispered, “Daddy, new mom’s different when you’re gone.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Arden pulled back, her lip trembling. “She locks herself in the attic. And I hear weird noises up there. It’s scary, Daddy! And she says I can’t go in that room, and… she’s mean.”
I kept my voice steady. “Mean how, Arden?”
“She makes me clean my whole room by myself, and she won’t let me have ice cream, even when I’m good.” Arden hung her head and sniffed. “I thought new mommy liked me, but…”
I hugged her tight as she started crying, my mind racing.
Elowyn had been spending a lot of time in the attic, even before my trip. She’d vanish up there for hours, and when I asked, she’d just smile and say she was “sorting things.” I didn’t think much of it at first—everyone needs their space, right? But now, I wondered.
While what Arden described wasn’t the worst thing I feared when she said Elowyn was mean, it still felt too harsh. As Arden sobbed against me, I began questioning if bringing Elowyn into our lives was a mistake. Had I been so desperate for a happy ending that I’d missed something crucial?
I didn’t say anything when Elowyn came downstairs. I greeted her with a smile and mentioned Arden missing me as I carried my daughter to her room. Once she calmed down, we had a tea party with her favorite toys.
I hoped things would settle, but that evening, I found Arden standing outside the attic door.
“What’s in there, Daddy?” she asked, pressing her hand against the door.
“I wish I knew. Probably just old stuff, sweetie. Come on, it’s almost bedtime.”
But sleep didn’t come that night. I lay beside Elowyn, watching shadows flicker across the ceiling as questions swirled in my head. Had I made a terrible mistake? Had I let someone into our lives who’d hurt my little girl? I thought of the promises I’d made to Maris in her final days—to keep Arden safe and to make sure she grew up knowing love.
When Elowyn slipped out of bed around midnight, I waited a few minutes before following. I watched from the bottom of the stairs as she unlocked the attic door and slipped inside. I crept up quietly and, acting on impulse, pushed the door open. My jaw dropped.
The attic was transformed into something magical: soft pastel walls, shelves lined with Arden’s favorite books, and a cozy window seat piled with cushions. An easel stood in one corner with art supplies, fairy lights twinkled across the ceiling, and a child-sized tea table sat in another corner, complete with delicate china cups and a stuffed rabbit in a bow tie.
Elowyn, adjusting a teapot on the table, spun around when I entered.
“I… I wanted to finish before showing you. It was supposed to be a surprise,” she stammered. “For Arden.”
The room was beautiful, but I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. “It’s amazing, Elowyn, but… Arden says you’ve been strict with her. No ice cream, making her clean alone. Why?”
“Strict?” Elowyn’s shoulders sagged. “I thought I was helping her grow stronger, more independent. I know I’ll never replace Maris, and I’m not trying to. I just… I wanted to be a good mom.” Her voice broke. “But I’ve been messing it up, haven’t I?”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” I said softly. “You just have to be there.”
“I keep thinking of my mother,” Elowyn admitted, sitting on the window seat. “Everything had to be just so with her. When I started working on this room, I caught myself acting like her without realizing. Being strict, keeping order…”
She gestured at the neat rows of books and carefully arranged art supplies. “I got so caught up making this space perfect that I forgot kids need mess and ice cream and silly moments.”
Tears rolled down Elowyn’s cheeks. “I forgot what she needs most is just… love. Plain, everyday love.”
The next evening, we brought Arden up to the attic. She hung back at first, half-hiding behind my legs, until Elowyn knelt beside her.
“Arden, I’m so sorry I’ve been strict lately,” Elowyn said. “I was trying so hard to be a good mom that I forgot how to just… be there for you. Can I show you something special?”
Arden peeked around me, curiosity winning over caution. When she saw the room, her mouth fell open in a perfect “O.”
“Is this… for me?” she whispered.
Elowyn nodded, eyes shining. “All of it. And I promise, from now on, we’ll clean your room together, and maybe… maybe we can share some ice cream while we read?”
Arden stared at her for a long moment before flinging herself into Elowyn’s arms. “Thank you, new mommy. I love it.”
“Can we have tea parties up here?” Arden asked, already heading for the little table. “With real tea?”
“Hot cocoa,” Elowyn said with a laugh. “And cookies. Lots of cookies.”
Later that night, as I tucked Arden into bed, she pulled me close and whispered, “New mom’s not scary. She’s nice.”
I kissed her forehead, feeling my last doubts melt away. Our path to becoming a family wasn’t smooth or simple, but maybe that’s what made it real. We were learning together, stumbling sometimes, but always moving forward. Watching my daughter and wife curl up in that attic room the next day, sharing ice cream and stories, I knew we’d be alright.