“That’s me when I was about ten years old,” I say. “That was the summer I caught my first fish.”
Charlie’s eyes narrow in focus, as if trying to picture me as a child. “You caught a fish?”
I laugh, a genuine sound this time, feeling the tension ease a little. “I did. And your grandpa was so proud of me. We spent the whole afternoon down at the creek. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“You look so happy, Mama.”
“I was,” I reply, thick with nostalgia. “Your grandpa always made sure we had fun when I was little. He’d take me fishing, hiking, even camping under the stars.”
“Camping?” Charlie is full of wonder. “Can we go camping? Can we sleep under the stars like you did?”
I feel a pang in my chest, a reminder of the dreams I’ve put on hold. “We can, sweetheart. I promise, we’ll go camping. We’ll sleep under the stars. When the weather is right for it.”
Charlie grins, and a weight lifts off my chest just from seeing him happy. But then he seems distracted by something else and runs out of the room.
I shake my head, amused, and turn back to the photo in my hand.
It’s strange how a simple thing, a photograph, a memory, can bring you back to a time you thought you’d forgotten. A time that seemed so innocent, so full of possibility.
I pull out a few more photos, some of my mom, some of me and my friends before I left Colter Creek. There’s one of me and Violet, grinning in front of the old diner after we’d spent the day hanging out by the creek.
We were inseparable back then, the kind of friends who thought nothing would ever change. That summer felt like the best of everything. Long days, warm nights, the smell of fresh cut grass and campfires.
And yet… that same summer, everything started to shift. I can almost feel it in my chest, that moment when I knew things were different, that something was about to change forever.
As I sit there, lost in these old moments, I hear Charlie again, louder this time as he bounds back into the room, holding up a toy truck in his hands.
“Mama! Look what I found!” He grins, showing off the truck like it’s the most amazing thing in the world.
I smile back. It’s a simple moment, but somehow it feels like everything. I reach for him, pulling him onto my lap and kissing the top of his head.
“That was one of your grandpa’s old toys,” I say softly. “I used to play with that when I was a little girl. I bet he’d be happy to know you’re having fun with it now.”
Charlie’s eyes widen as if it’s some kind of magical revelation. “Really?”
I nod. “Really. It’s a family toy. It’s been passed down.”
Charlie hugs it to his chest, and I feel a warmth spread through me. “I love it, Mom!”
His excitement fills the room, and I let myself forget all the worries that have been pressing down on me. I let myself enjoy the simplicity of this.
My little boy, in this old house, holding onto a toy from the past—a thread connecting my present to something I never thought I’d return to.
And then, just as the quiet settles around us, there’s a knock at the door.
I glance toward the sound, my heart giving an unexpected little flutter. It’s almost as if the world outside has been waiting to knock at my door.
I gently set Charlie down and head toward the door.
I open it, and there stands Violet.
“Hey, hope you don’t mind us dropping by.”
“Us?”
“I’m here, too.”
I freeze, and when I turn, there stands Alice, her warm brown eyes meeting mine. It’s been so long since I last saw her, but seeing her feels like coming home. Her smile is just as kind, and there’s that quiet strength in her gaze that I’ve always admired.
