She turns toward me at the sound of the rapping, a small smile lighting her face. That little smile is all I need to give me the strength to do what I came here for. I walk into her bedroom that’s been artfully decorated to her liking, all thanks to Baz.
We’ve given it some time, but after everything that happened, Baz went caveman on the both of us and demanded we move in with him at his home. I didn’t argue because, for once, it was what I wanted, too. It was the best decision I’ve ever made, next to adopting this gorgeous little girl.
I settle on the floor, right next to her, and scoot close, hovering near her shoulder, staring down at her drawing. For a ten-year-old, Ava is a talented artist. All clean lines and nearly perfect shading, she’s incredible, and I love her to death. At these moments when I look at her, I realize how much of Madison lives inside her. She lives in her carefree spirit, her joyous laughter, and the uniqueness that is truly her.
When I feel the emotion clog my throat, I blink, trying to pull myself together. I haven’t even done what I came here to do yet, and I’m already on the verge of turning into a blubbering mess. We sit in silence for a beat while I admire her work. A frown suddenly tugs low on my brows when I take a closer look at myself in the photograph she drew. The drawing is a picture of the three of us at the beach.
Of its own accord, my mind drifts to better days—the ones I’d spent with Madison at the beach. It seems fitting, almost coming full circle, that her daughter would want to go there. I make a mental note to speak to Baz about the possibility of taking a vacation there. Just the three of us.
In her photo, Baz is holding me with a content expression on his handsome face. It’s incredible, the detail in which she was able to capture his rugged features. The hard, severe lines of his face, yet the contentment in his eyes. My hand is clasped around Ava’s in the drawing, smiles on both of our faces as we look at each other. The waves lap at our feet, our jeans rolled up to our calves. The drawing itself is beautiful, but that’s not what is holding my attention. It’s the fact that in the drawing, it’s clear that my body looks different.
There’s an obvious bulge in my stomach area. It almost looks like I’m…
I glance down at Ava, meeting her gaze. “This photo is beautiful, but, um, is there a reason I look like…that?”
Ava shrugs. “In the picture, you’re pregnant.”
My brows jump into my hairline. “Wow. Okay. Is there a reason you drew me as a pregnant woman?” I ask, inserting some humor in my tone to keep the mood light.
Ava giggles, finding it funny. “I’ve always wanted a little brother or sister.”
Surprise widens my eyes. “You have? I thought you liked…I don’t know. I thought you liked it just being the three of us?”
“I do. But I wouldn’t mind a little brother or sister either.”
I laugh, slightly shaking my head, suddenly feeling emotional. I clear my throat. “Well, is that what you really want? Because you know, we’d be happy if it was just the three of us for the rest of our lives. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. It is. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” My response is immediate.
“Are you happy?”
My heart stills at the question. “Of course, I am, sweet girl.” I scoot closer, tucking her blond hair behind her ears. “What would make you ask me that?”
She shrugs, a somber look suddenly clouding her features. “You seem happy with me and Dad, but sometimes, when you think no one is looking, you look sad.”
My chest squeezes. That makes doing what I came here to do a lot more necessary. “That’s true. Even though this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life, I still have my moments. My moments of sadness. And that’s okay. That’s life, Ava. We’re allowed to be sad, and we’re allowed to miss people. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy. Sometimes in order to truly be happy, you have to confront your sadness and wade through your emotions.”
A crease forms between her brows, as though she’s following, but not really. “So, you are sad, but you’re happy, too?”
A laugh tumbles past my lips. “Yes. Do you remember my sister I told you about?” I ask nervously, my mouth going dry.
Her eyes turn uncertain, and she nods, likely remembering I told her about Madison’s passing. “Yes.”
“Well, as you know, we were twins, and I loved her. Sometimes, I think I loved her more than I love myself. So, when she passed away, it was really hard for me. It still is. It’s something I have to work to wade through every day. Because even though she’s been gone for a long time, I still miss her every day. I still think about her every day. Does that make sense?”
Understanding dawns on her. “You wish you can bring her back?”
Pressure builds in my nose and behind my lids. “All the time, but I can’t. And that’s okay, too. That’s a part of life.” I reach down for the photo album beside me and set it on the table in front of us.
“Can I show you something?”
She smiles, already scooting closer to see what it is. I open the album to the first page, revealing baby pictures of Madison and me.
“Wow,” Ava breathes out. “You look the same.”
“There were some obvious differences between us, but yes, we looked very similar.”
We flip through a few pages and pause on the high school photographs of us. Ava takes it all in. She points at one of the pictures that includes my parents.
“Is that your mom and dad?”
“It is.”
She glances at me. “Are they…?”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, probably fearing the answer. I shake my head to put her at ease.
“No, they’re still very much alive.”
“Will I ever meet them?”
I pause, not sure how I feel about that. A while has passed since our last conversation, but it’s still a fresh wound. Their abandonment. “Well, I don’t really talk to them because, over the years, we’ve had some fights. But do you…” My voice cracks, so I clear my throat, trying again. “Do you want to meet them?”
“Maybe?”
“It’s okay if you do, sweetie.”
“Well, I have Grandma Belmira and Grandpa Benny, but it would be cool to have more grandparents.”
Warmth curls in my chest, and I smile, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Then it’s settled. You’ll get to meet them.”
We continue looking through the album, and once we get to the back, the blank page, I dig into my back pocket for the photo that’s been burning a hole through my pocket for the last few days.
“The whole reason I’m showing you this album is because I wanted to talk about your mom.”
Ava pauses. Her gaze swings to mine, confusion written all over her face. “But you’re my mom.”
I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to hold in my emotion. “I know I am, baby. Always. But I’m actually talking about your biological mother.”
Sadness falls over her face. “She didn’t want me.”
My hands tremble when I pull out the photo. I had to beg my parents for it when I found out they had it. I thought I had done a good job, and they were on the verge of giving in, but all they did was turn their backs on me, just like they always did. I shouldn’t have been surprised when Baz had to leave for a business trip, soon after, and while he was gone, the photograph was magically mailed to me, as if they had changed their minds overnight.