“Come on.”
Grace wiped her face.
“Where are we going?”
“You lost your whole life because of us.”
“I need you three to see something.”
The old apartment was smaller than I remembered.
I pointed toward the upstairs window.
“Three cribs didn’t fit in the bedroom, so I slept in the living room.”
Sophie covered her mouth.
“You never told us that.”
“You never asked.”
Emma looked guilty.
“I need you three to see something.”
I nudged her shoulder.
“That’s not an accusation.”
Then I pointed toward the building entrance.
“Grace screamed every night for three months.”
Grace frowned.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Sophie snorted.
Emma laughed despite herself.
For one minute, Mom’s letter disappeared.
“That’s not an accusation.”
We were just us.
Again.
Our second stop was the grocery store where I’d once worked nights.
An older employee recognized me immediately.
Then she saw the girls.
“No.”
I smiled.
“Yep.”
“The babies?”
Emma groaned.
“Apparently we’ll always be babies.”
An older employee recognized me immediately.
The woman chuckled as she brought up my three plastic laundry baskets, the ones marked E, G, and S that I dragged everywhere.
They held diapers, clothes, snacks, and essentially emergency everything.
I’d kept those ridiculous baskets long after the girls outgrew them.
Sophie apparently used to climb into hers.
I’d kept those ridiculous baskets long after the girls outgrew them.
Grace hid crackers in hers.
Emma once fell asleep inside one during a move.
The woman smiled at me.
“Your brother worked himself half to death.”
I corrected her automatically.
“Dad.”
Silence.
The girls looked at me.
I hadn’t even noticed I’d said it.
“Your brother worked himself half to death.”
We ended up at the old playground where I’d spent hundreds of Sundays because free entertainment was the only kind I could reliably afford.
Emma sat beside me.
“Dad… Mom was right.”
