“Of course, Sir Henry, Lady Raelynn, juice you shall have.” Her terrible British accent makes them giggle, and allthe other kids mimic her. It sounds like a British cooking show as they put their plates together, a chorus of ‘don’t forget a slice of toe-mah-toe’ and ‘please pass the crisps’ going around the kids’ table. I can’t help but join in. When Amelia and the littles return from the kitchen with sippy cups of juice, she even cracks a smile at my antics. It’s gone an instant later, but it was brilliant while it lasted.
I’ve seen Amelia smile a lot in the twenty-four hours I’ve been here, but this is the first time she smiled because of me. It’s a huge change from the almost constant smiles I brought to her face before.
I want them back.
Haven, Grant, and Lizzie switch to different accents, and soon it’s chaos. Travis and Aaron wander over and make plates, too. No one seems surprised, and no one questions them about it. They just welcome Tiffany’s sons. After dinner, everyone pitches in to help clean up, and popsicles are passed out.
“Alright, home video time, the Lizzie edition! To the living room!” Barry points and then leads the way. Lizzie groans but grins as we all follow him. The living room is bigger than the den, but it still seems like people are sitting on top of each other. The younger kids grab pillows and bean bag chairs from the corner and take up residence on the floor.
Henry walks over, a sticky mess, and holds out his dessert toward Lizzie. “I share with you.”
“Ah, thanks, buddy, that’s not gross at all.” Lizzie takes a little bite that’s probably more slobber than sugar and forces a smile. “Mmmm. You should share with Minnie.” That earns her a glare from her best friend.
Henry shakes his head. “No, you. I lobes you, Beanie Wienie.”
“Smooth, little dude.” She laughs, perching him on her knee and kissing the top of his head. “I love you, too.”
Haven sits next to her, and Raelynn crawls up to snuggle between them. Henry reaches out to hold his best friend’s hand again, and I see Haven gently stroke her daughter’s hair as the little girl leans against her. Amelia sits on the other side of Haven, and Grant sits next to her but sideways so his legs stretch out across their laps. Raelynn and Henry both start tickling his feet. When he threatens them with revenge, they just giggle and high-five each other.
It’s impossible to be grumpy around this group.
“Shall we start with the talent shows?” Barry asks.
“Oh, why the hell not?” Lizzie replies with a shrug.
“Maybe skip the year we thought we could do magic.” Amelia crinkles her nose adorably.
“Oh Jesus, yeah… That was a terrible year.” Lizzie shakes her head. “Should never be seen by anyone, ever.”
“That one’s my favorite!” Barry declares. He’s messing with the remote, scrolling through videos.
Lizzie laughs. “That’s because it was your idea.”
“It was a great idea. The execution could have used some work. Okay, we’re going in order, starting with third grade!”
For hours, we watch videos of my daughter’s childhood. The more we watch, the more thankful I am for this room full of people who not only recorded these moments but were part of them as well. And the more we watch, the more I regret not realizing I was missing out on so much.
It’s also a bit awkward, watching the woman I love grow up alongside my daughter in these videos.Thanks for the unintentional mindfuck, Barry.
Amelia is in all the talent show videos, where they danced, sang, played music, did magic (which was indeed terrible), and even a ventriloquist act where they took turns being the dummy. Then there’s birthday parties, recitals, Christmases, spring breaks, summer vacations… There’s adventures at lakes, day trips to the coast, camping in the woods, graduations, backyard barbecues, and road trips. All of the Sinclairs, Lizzie’s siblings, and Haven show up throughout the years. I savor every minute of the memories. There’s so much laughter. Barry must have spent all day sorting through everything.
A new video starts and Amelia’s face fills the screen, Blair Witch style. The real version groans from across the couch. “You suck, Dad,” she grumbles. Barry cackles.
“So, as usual, Bean is late. Because she’s a jerk. Worst best friend ever. She was supposed to be here seven minutes ago. She’s probably not coming at all. Decided to hide in her room for the whole week. I wonder if she’s alone in there.” She wags her eyebrows suggestively, then drops the phone. “Oh shit.”
“Oh my god, spring break, freshman year. How do you even have this?” Lizzie asks.
“It saved to the cloud.” Barry shrugs. “I found it by accident, and it made me laugh so hard I almost peed myself.”
On the screen, Amelia picks up the phone. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… Bean has left me to my own devices for far too long. Nine minutes now. She knows better than that.”
A pounding can be heard from somewhere, which Amelia ignores. “I’m quite certain I’ll starve to death. We were going to go in search of the best pizza New York has to offer. A tall task, I know. Especially since we each already have our favorites, and they are not the same. Not. The. Same.”
“Minnie!” Pound, pound, pound. “What the fuck, let me in!”
“It’s almost as if I can hear her. I must be hallucinating due to starvation. Bean! Save me!” She looks into the camera and whispers, the back of her hand on her forehead dramatically, “Alas, poor Minnie. Wherefore art thou, Bean?”
She continues spouting nonsense for another minute before finally opening the door for Lizzie.
