“I wouldn’t have recognized it in here. It looks amazing,” Tate exclaims, her gaze roaming around the animal jungle themed décor that I hired one of the city’s top event management companies to create. “It’s like being inside Molly’s favorite book.”
She bites her lip, like she’s regretting her words, but also doesn’t know what else to say. What’s safe to bring up, and what isn’t.
“It is,” I agree, trying to convey with my tone that she doesn’t need to worry. Nothing is off-limits anymore. There are no more secrets.
“And one day she’ll understand why it’s her favorite,” I add.
Tate’s eyes widen. “You’re going to tell her?”
“Eventually.”
It’s something I’ve thought about a great deal over the past month. This secret was only ever something myself and all of my family have kept because it was protecting Molly.
“I always intended to tell her when she was an adult. Butnow Natasha is no longer with us, maybe that day will come sooner, if I think she’s ready,” I tell Tate.
“You’re her father. You’ll know when the time’s right.”
Tate’s words and faith in me come so easily, making me look at her with a mix of intense adoration and tenderness, that I’m sure conveys exactly what I want to tell her. At least, I must be looking at her like that because she rubs the back of her neck and looks away like she feels awkward.
“How have you been?” she asks, flicking her eyes to mine, then away again.
“I’ve—”
Before I can tell her the truth—that I’ve missed her every damn day, but that as much of a mess as I am without her, everything else is slowly coming together, and that I’ve started seeing a grief counsellor—Sinclair arrives, brimming with excitement.
“Oh wow! You’re Tate the cookie baker.”
She pulls Tate into a hug and lets out a little squeal.
“I’ve only heard about you recently because my brother is a huge doofus and kept you all to himself.” She tosses a mock dirty look my way, before turning to Tate with a grin. “But I can’t wait to hang out. And you need to meet Halliday. You’re going to love her. She’s into crystals and matching energies and stuff. It’s so interesting. Magical.”
Tate’s lips part, but she clamps them shut again, throwing me a genuine smile as Sinclair leads her away.
And just like that, Tate meets my family.
She’s all smiles and laughs, her shoulders softening more by the second as Sinclair introduces her to everyone.
She becomes one of us seamlessly, slotting into the place I never knew was sitting empty, just waiting for her.
The room fills as some of Molly’s future classmates and their parents I’ve connected with to ease her transition intopre-K arrive. And Arabella comes in, armed with more gifts from the team at work.
The party roars to life.
I stand, like a human island in the middle of it all.
The excited squeals muffle into white noise.
The decorations and balloons all blur and merge like a kaleidoscope.
All I see, hear, and feel is her. Back in the same room as me.
Back in my life where she belongs.
“You okay, Son?”
My father’s strong palm on my shoulder brings with it a sense of calm, and I inhale slowly.
I look up from behind the bar where I’m making a coffee and take in the party. Everyone’s having a great time. The entertainer I hired is busy making balloon animals. And all of the children now resemble different creatures, courtesy of the face paint artist who’s here.
