"I miss when we were happy," Sarah said quietly.
"We can be happy again."
"How?"
"I don't know yet. But we'll figure it out."
She didn't look convinced. I didn't blame her. I wasn't convinced either.
Wednesday night, she found me on the porch after her bath.
"Uncle C?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
She climbed into my lap, still warm and damp from the water, smelling like her strawberry shampoo. "Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask me anything."
A long pause. Then, in a voice so small I almost missed it: "Do you think Mommy would have left me too? If she didn't die?"
The question gutted me. Completely. I had to take a breath before I could answer.
"No," I said, the word fierce and absolute. "No, baby. Your mommy loved you so much. More than anything in the whole world."
"But how do you know?"
"Because she told me. Before you were born, she used to talk about you all the time. About how she couldn't wait to meet you. About all the things she wanted to show you."
"Really?"
"Really. She had this whole list. The ocean. Fireflies. How to make her special hot chocolate." I swallowed hard. "She wanted to be your mom more than anything. Leaving you was the last thing she would have ever wanted."
Sarah was quiet, processing. "But she left. And Emma left. And..."
"And?"
"What if you leave too?"
I turned her to face me, holding her by her small shoulders. "Look at me. I am never leaving you. Ever. Do you understand? You're stuck with me forever. That's the deal."
"But what if you die? Like Mommy?"
"I'm going to do everything I can to stay with you for a really, really long time. I'm careful. I eat my vegetables sometimes. I look both ways when crossing the street."
A ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "You don't eat vegetables."
"I eat potatoes. Those are vegetables."
"French fries aren't vegetables."
"They come from potatoes. Potatoes are vegetables. French fries are vegetables. That's just science."
She giggled. Actually giggled. The sound was so unexpected, so precious, that my eyes stung.
"Uncle Cole?"
"Yeah?"
