“Sister.” She wipes her eyes again. “It’s gonna be a sister, like Alicia has.”
“It might be,” he says.
“It will. An’ I’m gonna be the big sister.” Her tears have stopped, and her voice is gaining strength.
“I bet you’ll be the best big sister ever.”
“Yeah.” Her face brightens. “I’m gonna help pick out her clothes and toys, and I’ll sing her songs. An’ when I learn to read, I’ll read her books.”
“What books do you think she’ll like?”
“Curious George. An’Goodnight Moon. I have that one prac’ly mem’rized, so I can sorta read it already.”
It’s like a thunderstorm has passed, and the sun is shining again. I breathe a sigh of relief and smile at Zack. He grins back, and another flood of warm emotion pours through me.
A whistle pierces the air. I look up and see the man at the front porch with two fingers in his mouth. The crowd quiets as he opens the door. “Numbers one through fifteen can enter,” he calls. “The payment desk is by the exit to the back porch.”
“That’s our cue,” I say.
“Ready to hunt for treasure?” Zack asks Lily.
“Yes!” She takes his hand, then grabs mine, her teddy bear’s paw clasped between our palms. The three of us surge forward together, looking like a close-knit nuclear family.
But we’re not.Zack is married. It’s one of those immutable hard facts.
And here’s another, I think with a wistful ache.Sometimes life can be like an estate sale: by the time you find exactly what you want, it’s already been claimed by someone else.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Zack
THE ESTATE SALEwas a study in frenzied shopping, but Quinn and Lily made out like bandits. Quinn scored three dressers, a sideboard, a large starburst mirror, an enormous brass tray, a coffee table, and a pair of lamps; Lily left with a long rope of faux pearls, a hat that looks like a UFO with a black veil, and enormous screw-on earrings the size of chandeliers, all of which she insisted on wearing.
After Quinn made arrangements for her contracted movers to pick up the furniture, she suggested we go by the Walnut Street Playground at the front of Audubon Park to let Lily burn off some energy before lunch. Lily is enthusiastic about the plan, but once we get to the playground, she balks at removing her “treasure joolry.” She agrees to take it off when Quinn promises she can put it back on when she finishes playing.
“You have to keep it safe,” Lily tells us as she takes off the bounty and hands it over. “Pirates might be after it.”
“I promise to guard it with my life.” I hold up my hand in a three-finger Boy Scout salute. Quinn laughs, and the two of us sit down on a bench under a live oak. Lily runs toward three children playing on a piece of climbing equipment.
“Does she know those kids?” I ask.
“No, but Lily makes friends easily.” Quinn smiles. “She gets that from Brooke.”
I glance over at her. “I’ve noticed some things she gets from you.”
“Oh, yeah? What?”
“When you’re trying to decide about something, you’ll put yourfinger on your chin. Lily does that, too.” I scroll through my phone and pull up a photo. “Here.”
I lean in and show her a picture of Lily in the pose at the estate sale. “That’s when she was trying to decide between the pearls and a rope of purple Mardi Gras beads. She did it with the hats, too. And you do the same thing when you’re studying a menu.”
Quinn stares at the photo, amazed. “I never realized she does that.” She looks up at me. “I never really realized I do it, either, but now that you say it, I guess I do.”
“There are other little things you two do alike. You both tilt your heads when you’re listening.”
“Brooke did that! Maybe I got it from her.”
I lift my shoulders. “Or she got it from you.”
