"I'll see you out." Abigail grabbed her jacket from the coat tree and followed them outside.
As if sensing her mother's sadness, Zoe put her hand in hers as they made their way to the black sedan.
"Mama, I'll miss you."
Crouching down, she passed her hands over her daughter's face and kissed her on both cheeks.
"I'll miss you back." Pasting on a bright smile, she led her to the car, where Cade had the door open. He secured her in the brand new top of the line car seat, pink and green, she noticed. He secured the belt. Kissing her again, she rubbed the little girl's arm before stepping back.
"She likes to sleep with her elephant and bear." She told him as he shut the door.
"I'll remember that." He wanted so much to touch her, to just take her in his arms and hold her.
"Abigail--"
"She likes the classics."
"Talk to me."
She lifted her head to look at him and wondered if he was always so tall. She was wearing her slingback Uggs and did not reach his shoulders.
"There's nothing to say."
"There's a hell of a lot to say, but the timing is bad." He gave her a frustrated look. "We need to talk."
"Take care of her." She stepped back, forcing him to do the same. He had already stowed her case in the trunk. Opening his door, he got in and turned to look at the little girl, holding her stuffed toys.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
"All right, let's go." Pressing the start button, he circled the driveway.
Abby watched, lifting her hand in a wave as Zoe pressed her face against the glass to wave at her. She stayed there long after the taillights had disappeared.
As the quiet settled over the driveway, Abigail felt the ache of parting linger, sharper than she expected. The house behind her seemed unusually still, echoing with the absence of laughter and tiny footsteps. She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, the evening air cool and gentle, and took a deep breath, determined to hold herself together until she was safely inside. Yet, even as she moved toward the door, she found herself glancing down the empty street, hoping for just one more glimpse of her daughter's smiling face.
Her parents were there waiting to wrap their arms around her. The scent of turkey roasting, sweet potato pie baking would have normally had her heading towards the kitchen. This time was different. The house felt empty and lifeless without Zoe.
"He loves her." Her father wrapped his arm around her, and she tipped her head to his shoulder.
"Yes." She had to acknowledge that.
"How about some hot chocolate?" Arlene guided them into the warmth of the kitchen.
Their housekeeper, Gladys, had gone for two days to visit her sister in Boston, but had half prepared the Thanksgiving meal.
"Sit, baby."
Peter nudged her into a chair and pressed his hands on her shoulders.
"She'll be fine." He kissed the top of her head before taking his seat next to her.
Abigail let herself be comforted, the familiar touch of her parents grounding her amid the swirling emotions. She tried to focus on the warmth of the kitchen, the soft glow of the lights, and the sounds that belonged to every holiday she'd ever known. But the quiet moments between words seemed heavier, and she caught herself listening for the pitter-patter of Zoe's feet, half expecting her daughter to burst in with laughter and stories from her day.
"She was so eager to leave." She made the comment without thinking.
"And you feel betrayed." Arlene handed her a cup of the hot beverage, the scent of cinnamon hitting the air.
