Chapter 8
We found a small house in June.
It was ten minutes from Mom’s place and close enough to Lily’s school that her mornings wouldn’t change. The kitchen was narrow, and one bedroom had a crooked closet door. Lily loved it because the window faced a maple tree.
“Can this be mine?” she asked before we had finished the tour.
“If we get the house, yes.”
I signed the lease a week later. Lily chose yellow curtains and helped me carry books inside. On the first night, we ate pizza on the floor because the table hadn’t arrived.
She fell asleep halfway through a story, her stuffed fox under her chin. I sat beside her bed for a while, listening to the ordinary sounds of the new place.
The next morning, I pinned our calendar to the kitchen wall. School events, work shifts, Ben’s visits, and Mom’s Sunday dinners went on it. Lily added a little wave to the last Saturday in July.
“That’s when I want to go,” she said.
I found a beach town we could drive to. We chose a room together and booked it while sitting at the kitchen table. Lily read the confirmation aloud, checking both our names.
“There are two people,” she said.
“Yes.”
“And two beds.”
“You picked the room.”
She grinned and marked the date with a blue star.
A few days later, Sarah missed a repayment deadline. Naomi contacted her attorney. The money arrived the next morning, along with an explanation that the sale of the house had been delayed.
I kept that problem away from Lily. Sarah had signed an agreement, and Naomi was handling it. Lily needed to know her account was protected; she did not need a daily report.
Ben came over that weekend. He and Lily built a shelf for her photographs with me. We got one bracket upside down and had to start again.
When we finished, Ben asked if I could help him with his science project. He was making a model bridge, and one side kept falling.
“Bring it next time,” I said.
He looked relieved.
Sarah called while we were cleaning up. Ben glanced at the phone, then stepped outside to answer. He came back quieter.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“She wanted to know if Lily had talked about her.”
“You don’t have to report on Lily.”
“I told her I didn’t know.” He looked toward the hallway. “She got upset.”
“I’ll speak to her.”
I sent Sarah a message asking her to talk with me directly if she had questions about Lily. She answered that she was trying to give Lily space and didn’t always know how.
For once, I believed her.
Lily had been meeting with the school counselor since the airport. Some days she came home quiet. Other days she told me what they had discussed while I made dinner.
That Monday, she said they had talked about trust.
“Mrs. Patel asked what helps me believe a promise,” Lily said.
“What did you tell her?”
“That it happens when someone does what they said they’d do.”
I set a plate in front of her. “That sounds right.”
“She said I can ask for proof when I’m worried.”
“You can ask me.”
Lily pointed at the calendar. “We booked the room, but we haven’t packed.”
“We have a month.”
“I know. I just wanted to say it.”
I sat with her while she ate. We talked about what she wanted to photograph first when we reached the beach.
At the end of the month, the house sold. Sarah completed the repayment to Lily’s account from her share, as the agreement required. Naomi sent me the confirmation.
I told Lily the money had all been returned.
“Good,” she said. “Can I use some of it for a new lens?”
“When you’re older, we can talk about what that account is for.”
She groaned. “It was worth asking.”
The following week, Sarah requested a visit with Lily at a café. I asked Lily how she felt about it.
“Will you stay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Can Ben come?”
I checked with Sarah. She agreed.
At the café, Sarah asked about school and listened while Lily described her painting. She did not ask Lily to forgive her. Ben talked about his bridge project and showed us a picture of the finished model.
When we left, Sarah said, “Thank you for coming.”
Lily nodded. In the car, she said the visit had been okay.
“I might do it again,” she said. “Just not next week.”
“That’s fine.”
A few days before our beach trip, I came home to find Lily’s pink suitcase standing in the hallway.
She had placed her camera, a sun hat, and her stuffed fox beside it.
I felt a sharp ache at the sight of that suitcase. Lily followed my gaze.
“We don’t have to use this one,” I said.
May you like
“I want to,” she replied.
Then she opened it and began to pack.
