Her verse came last.
They tell her being both mama and daddy ain’t for the weak
And she says watch me.
I didn’t look at her during her verse, but I could feel her reaction anyway. By the end of it she was dabbing under her eyes with a napkin.
Then the chorus. Then the bridge.
I looked up for the bridge.
I wonder sometimes
What it would have changed
If she’d stayed that morning
Instead of leaving me her name
Seraphina was lookingat me as if I’d hung the moon. I loved it.
But I watch you every day
Choose the harder thing
And I finally understand
What a mother’s love can mean
I sang the final chorus.
Let me see you. We’ll carry it all.
The last chorddissolved into the sound of the ocean. Seraphina was wiping tears from her eyes. “Hunter, that’s … I don’t even know what to say. How did you capture all of us so well? Those are our stories.”
“I’ve watched and listened. It’s not that hard to really see people if you pay attention. I wanted to let you know that I see you. All of you.”
Her eyes filled again. “We’ve felt invisible. At times anyway. But never when we are together. Maybe that’s what bonds us like sisters. No matter what’s happening, we always have one another.” She dabbed at her cheeks. “Thank you for seeing us and acknowledging what we do every day. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. The others will feel the same.”
“Thank you.”
We were quiet for a moment, looking out to sea. A pelican drew closer, watching us with his beady eye.
“When I think about the little boy you once were—having to maneuver through your mother leaving and your dad at work all the time—breaks my heart.”
“I had Margaret and Wes,” I said. “Without them, I don’t know where I’d be. Or who I’d be.”
“Thank God they were there for you.”
“The first time my dad dropped me off at their house, Margaret made up the guest room bed for me. Read me a chapter ofTuck Everlastingbefore kissing the top of my head and turning out the light. But I figured they wouldn’t want me for long. So I slept on top of the covers with my boots still on.Just in case they asked me to leave first thing in the morning, I wanted to be ready. Because I couldn’t risk looking like a fool once they decided I was too much trouble.” I looked down at my feet, bare in the sand. “Of course they didn’t ask me to leave. Margaret made pancakes instead. With blueberries. I’ve thought a lot about my ten-year-old self—how I tried to keep from getting hurt by assuming they would tell me to go. Or leave. I’ve been doing that ever since.” I paused for a moment, finding a shell in the sand with my big toe. “I don’t want to be like that anymore. I want to believe you’ll want to stay and that I won’t leave because I’m afraid you will.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “You’ve been keeping your boots on, just in case.”
I wriggled my toes in the sand. “Not today.”
“And I’m not leaving.” She leaned forward and kissed me. “I’m not even going to put my boots on.”
I put Georgia back in her case and pulled Seraphina onto my lap, pulled her pony tail loose and kissed her neck, happier than I’d been in a very long time.
