Page 69 of Hero for the Holidays

And she found it hard to breathe.

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Why do you look so sad?”

“Why do you care?” she asked, knowing she was being bratty.

“I’ve always cared.”

That made her feel like she’d been stabbed in the chest. She tried to be like when she’d said that. Somewhat flippant. But it had come out heavy, and that his answer had been heavier than she’d been expecting.

And it made her feel things.

“This makes me feel like we should have red Solo cups full of beer,” she said. “A big house party like this. Without our parents.”

He chuckled. “We’re the parents.”

It was so sobering. She looked over at the kids, who were talking and laughing.

“Do you get the sense that she’s happy she’s here?” she asked.

“She looks happy now.”

“Yeah. She does. She looks really happy. I never know... We get along well. We have a nice time together.” She realized that she was pulling strips off herself and exposing her insecurities to Landry, and the Fia of just a few weeks ago would hate herself for this. But she didn’t have anyone else to talk to about it.

“What don’t you know?”

“Does she still feel like this is foster care? Does she really want us to adopt her?”

“She doesn’t really have a lot of other options.”

“No, I know. But what does shewant?”

“We didn’t get to choose our parents. She doesn’t either.” He tried to smile, but she could tell that he didn’t think it was worth the effort. “I mean, I get it. This is complicated. Depending on how you feel about fate or whatever, it really becomes a whole thing.”

That made her feel sour. She tried not to show it. Because he was right. When you brought fate into the mix, everything got extremely muddy. She didn’t need it to be muddy. She didn’t want it to be. She wanted things to feel clear.

She wanted to feel completely confident in the decision that she made in the past and completely certain of her footing now.

And looking at Landry always made her feel that quandary of emotions that she’d been mired in from the time they were kids.

“I feel like it could still all go away tomorrow.”

And part of her thought it might be easier. Because she learned how to live a certain kind of sad. She had learned how to live missing a piece of herself, but having that piece returned to her, and having it bring up all the other things that she still missed, all the things that still weren’t healed. That was difficult.

“Me too,” he said. “Every morning, I wake up and I go up the stairs and knock on the door and...I’m afraid. I’m afraid she’s going to be gone. I’m afraid that it was a dream. And yeah, I recognize that maybe this isn’t a dream for her. That’s hard too. I don’t want her hurt.”

“Me neither.”

His voice was heavy now. “But she didn’t get to choose. And I like to think that maybe we’re not the worst option.”

“Me too.” When she looked over, she saw that Lila wasn’t there.

She went over quickly to Daniel. “Where did Lila go?”

“Oh. I don’t know. I think just to get some food?”

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