Lia stops.
I stop.
I hear someone gasp from the kitchen.
Time seems to slow to a grinding halt as I wait for whatever answer comes.
Lia clears her throat. “Is that… something you want to call me?”
“I mean, not right now,” Amber says with a shake of her head. “But you never know, right?
Lia takes Amber’s hands into her own. “You know you don’t ever have to call me anything you don’t want to. You can call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, and that’s okay with me.The important thing is that you want to call me whatever you wish to call me, and that you’re comfortable with it. Okay?”
“So… if I’m comfortable with it… it’s okay?”
Lia’s eyes lift and find mine, showcasing a sincerity and a softness I haven’t yet seen in her. There’s a quiet kind of fear, like she doesn’t want to mess up this moment.
She’s going to be so good for Amber.
I just smile and nod, letting her know that whatever she chooses, it’ll be okay.
My girls will be okay so long as I’m around.
“Then yes,” Lia says as she leans forward and presses a kiss to Amber’s forehead, “it’s okay if you want to call me that in the future.”
I don’t even realize my mother’s standing behind me until I feel her hand on my shoulder. She gives it a soft squeeze, and I reach out and take her hand within mine. My mind flashes back to those first days after Gloria’s death. My mother was over at the house twenty-four-seven, cleaning and cooking because I was comatose with grief.
In those moments, I thought there was no way forward. No path toward a happy life. I had discarded my own life in favor of making sure my daughter had everything she could ever possibly need.
I look up and I see tears in my mother’s eyes.
“I’m so happy for you, kiddo,” she whispers as she drops a kiss to the top of my head.
I swallow hard and look back at Lia and Amber. They’re hugging now, and my daughter seems completely oblivious to the emotional bomb that’s just dropped in the room. I see Knox swiping underneath his eyes. Walker clears his throat and looks down into his lap, and I just… drink it all in.
Thank you, Gloria, for sending them to me.
Amber quickly jumps into yet another story about school. A kid in her art class apparently threw paint as Miss Lo, and she didn’t like that so she threw paint at the kid. It started an all-out paint war, and apparently ruined one of her outfits.
“Don’t worry, I took her to get another one,” Walker’s mother whispers.
I look up and find all of the adults—save for Gloria’s parents—surrounding us while Amber rattles off more about her week. She talks about Pickles and how he tried to steal Mr. Boone’s morning breakfast sandwich. She talks about how Miss Lo came to the vineyard with her pack and she got to take a trolley ride with them. And the entire time, Lia listens like it’s the only thing she wishes to do with her life.
Like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
I lean back and just watch everything unfold. The adults eventually gravitate back to the kitchen. Mr. Boone comes around with more coffee for us. Mrs. Boone’s made another round of eggs for all of us. And through it all, I don’t even realize I’m smiling so hard until my cheeks start aching.
I thought I’d only ever get to be a good father. I convinced myself that would be enough. I never saw a pack in my future.
And now, it’s the only future I wish to live.
“Your cheese grits are ready, Amber!” Walker’s mom calls from the kitchen.
“Food!” Amber exclaims.
“Chocolate milk, too?” Walker’s father asks.
“Yes, please,” Amber says as she wiggles herself into a chair at the table.
