Emily made a sound like a hiccup. “I thought you’d be mad.”
“The photographer wants a ‘family shot.'”
“For what?” Thomas asked. “For loving me too hard?”
She dropped to her knees again. “I hate this.”
“I do too,” Thomas said. “But I’m here. Tonight I’m here.”
Grace poked her head in. “Mom? The photographer wants a ‘family shot.’ All of us. In the dresses.”
I looked at Thomas. “Can you?”
He inhaled slowly. “One more.”
“Okay. I’m done being brave.”
So we lined up outside under the string lights. Seven girls. One dad. One mom.
The photographer, a guy named Marco, whispered, “On three. Everybody look at Thomas.”
Thomas laughed. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the reason,” Sophie said.
Marco counted. “One. Two. Three.”
Flash.
We got him in the car.
Thomas blinked at the light. Then he said, “Okay. I’m done being brave.”
I wrapped my arm around his waist. “You can stop now.”
He leaned into me. “Thank God.”
We got him in the car. Emily rode behind him, holding his shoulders so he wouldn’t slump. She kept talking, fast and shaky.
“Remember when I got stuck in that tree at Grandma’s?” Emily said.
Thomas chuckled. “You screamed like a cat.”
“We’re not letting you fall either.”
“I did not.”
“You did,” Nora said from the front. “You absolutely did.”
Emily huffed. “Fine. I did. And Dad climbed up in work boots. Like an idiot.”
Thomas said, “I wasn’t letting my miracle fall.”
Silence hit for a second.
Then Paige said softly, “We’re not letting you fall either.”
“Promise me something else.”
At home, I helped Thomas up the steps. He paused at the doorway. He stared at the hall where the girls’ height marks were still penciled on the trim.
“Look,” he whispered. “They’re all taller than me now.”
I said, “You made them tall.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. “I’m so tired, Mary.”
“I know,” I said.
“Promise.”
He squeezed my hand. “Promise me something else.”
“What?”
“Don’t let them pretend they’re fine. Not after I’m gone.”
My throat burned. “Don’t talk like that.”
He opened his eyes. “Promise.”
I forced the word out. “Promise.”
I sat down with them, right on the carpet.
He exhaled, like it released him. “Good.”
The girls piled into the living room in their mismatched gowns, like a runaway bridal party. They kicked off their heels. They drank water out of coffee mugs. They laughed too loud, because quiet was scary.
Grace looked at me. “Did we do okay?”
I sat down with them, right on the carpet. “You did better than okay.”
Sophie leaned on my shoulder. “Mom?”
I looked around at their faces. At the mess. At the love.
“Yeah, baby.”
“Can we do more?” she asked. “Like… more memories?”
I looked around at their faces. At the mess. At the love.
I said, “Yes.”
Emily nodded, wiping her cheeks. “We make a list.”
Hannah lifted her phone. “I’ll start one.”
For the first time since Dr. Patel spoke, I felt something solid under my feet.
Nora said, “Rule one. Dad gets veto power.”
Paige said, “Rule two. We don’t waste good days.”
Lily whispered, “Rule three. We tell the truth.”
And for the first time since Dr. Patel spoke that sentence, I felt something solid under my feet.
Not hope. Not denial.
A plan.
Did this story remind you of something from your own life? Feel free to share it in the Facebook comments.
If you enjoyed this story, you might also like this one about a couple who adopted a girl no one wanted due to a birthmark. 25 years later, they found a letter revealing the truth about their daughter’s past.
Leave a Comment