Chapter 10
Lily woke me before sunrise.
She stood beside my bed with her camera around her neck and her sneakers already tied.
“The lighthouse,” she reminded me.
I checked the time and laughed. “It won’t run away.”
“I know. I want the morning light.”
We ate breakfast while the town was still quiet, then walked along the path above the beach. Lily stopped every few yards to photograph something: a gull on a railing, a dog chasing a ball, the sun catching the tops of the waves.
At the lighthouse, she asked me to stand by the red door. I held my arms out, making the ridiculous face Ben had requested, and she laughed as she took the picture.
Then she asked a woman nearby to take one of us together.
Lily checked the image. Our hair was blowing across our faces. My eyes were half closed.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
We spent the rest of the day doing things she had chosen. We walked the pier, picked out a postcard for Mom, and ate sandwiches on a bench facing the water. Lily bought a small shell for Ben with her own spending money.
On our last evening, we sat on the beach until the sky turned orange.
Lily leaned against my shoulder. “I used to think you and Sarah would stay married forever.”
“I thought so too.”
“Sometimes I still miss when we all lived together.”
“I do too. There were good days.”
She turned the shell over in her hand. “I’m glad I can say that.”
“You always can.”
She watched the waves for a long time.
“Do you think Sarah meant what she said at my art show?”
“I think she meant her apology. You can take your time deciding what it means to you.”
“I might see her at the café again,” Lily said. “If Ben comes.”
“We can arrange that.”
She put the shell in her pocket and rested her head against me.
“I’m happy now,” she said.
I held her close as the last light faded.
When we returned home, Mom had left fresh flowers on our kitchen table. Ben came over the next afternoon. Lily gave him the shell and showed him her photographs, lingering on the three pictures of my ridiculous face.
“You actually did it,” he said.
“I keep my promises,” I told him.
He looked at Lily and smiled. She smiled back.
School began a few weeks later. Lily put one of the beach photographs beside her bed and took another to show Mrs. Patel. She still had hard moments. If a plan changed suddenly, she wanted to know exactly why. I told her, and we made the next plan together.
One Saturday, Ben brought his bridge model over. Lily helped him paint a sign for it. While they worked, I made lunch and heard them argue over which color would show up best.
It was an ordinary sound. I had missed it.
Sarah continued to arrange café visits through me. Lily went when she wanted to. Sarah arrived on time, listened, and let the visits end when Lily was ready. I could see their relationship changing slowly. I left room for Lily to decide how close she wanted it to be.
In October, Lily’s school held another art show. She chose a photograph from the lighthouse and wrote a short description for the display. Ben and Mom came with us. Sarah arrived separately and stood near the back.
Lily walked each of us to her picture.
“I took it before Dad had enough coffee,” she said, pointing to me beside the red door.
Everyone laughed. Sarah smiled at Lily, and Lily smiled back.
On the way home, Lily reached for my hand.
“I liked having them all there,” she said.
“I did too.”
“It didn’t feel like it used to.”
“No.”
“It still felt good.”
I squeezed her hand. We had made a life with people who showed up for her. I knew now to pay attention to what happened when I wasn’t in the room, and Lily knew she could tell me about it.
That night, she came into the kitchen while I was putting away dishes.
“Can we print the picture of us together?” she asked.
“The windy one?”
“Yes. I want it on my shelf.”
We printed it and found a frame. Lily placed it beside her camera, then stood back to look.
“Both of us made it into the picture,” she said.
I put my arm around her shoulders. “We did.”
She slipped her arm around my waist and stayed there for a moment.
Outside her window, the maple leaves moved in the evening breeze. Ben’s bridge stood on her desk, waiting for its paint to dry. Down the hall, our calendar showed school days, visits, and a weekend we had left open.
Lily looked up at me.
“I know where I belong,” she said.
May you like
I kissed the top of her head. “Right here, sweetheart.”
She smiled and turned back to our photograph. I stayed beside her until she was ready to turn out the light.
