Page 31 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

“Andyoudid it alone,” Emily reminded her. “I do have Jamie.”

“No, not alone.” Sienna’s eyes drifted to a photo on the fridge, one that captured Grace’s first Halloween.

She had been dressed as the cowardly lion, Sienna as Dorothy, her father as the tin man—decked out head to toe including face paint—and Henry as the wicked witch of the east. She smiled at the bittersweet image.

“My village looked different, that’s all.”

“I saw your text. So, all is good with Grace?”

Sienna nodded, pouring herself another cup of coffee. “Yeah,” she said with a heavy sigh. “For now, at least.”

“Oh, Sienna. Don’t.” Emily reached out and grabbed her hand. “I can’t imagine,” she said, looking down at her baby, “but there’s got to be an end to it all for you guys. And honestly, I feel like this is it. Ithasto be.”

“How do you know?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe the stars aligned this time.”

Sienna smiled. “I don’t mean to be pessimistic, and trust me, I’mnotin front of her, but it’s just... we’ve been here before. I have to reprogram my brain, I guess. Remember what life was like before she got sick.”

“Well, since she’s on the other side of it, maybe think about doing something for yourself.”

“I need a haircut,” Sienna joked.

Emily gave her a small kick. “I mean something more than that. Last time you thought about going back to school.”

There had been a time when Grace began her road to remission, the first time, that Sienna toyed with the idea of returning to college to study nursing, which she found ironic, considering science was the most difficult subject for her in high school. But the nurses she came across—like Luella—during Grace’s many hospital stays had opened the door to it.“Everyone can learn if they work hard enough. And you have an insider’s foundation.”Luella had told her. But by the time she came close to pulling the trigger, Grace was sick again.

Sienna looked down at Abigail, who stirred. “Can I hold her?”

Emily pulled the blanket off Abigail, scrunching and stretching as her mother lifted her. “Maybe she’ll let me drink my coffee while it’s still hot.”

Sienna laughed, reaching out to hold Abigail. “Learn to drink it fast,” she joked before she cradled the small baby in her arms, rocking gently.

“Does her breathing sound funny to you?”

Sienna stilled, listening. “She’s snorty. A lot of newborns snort. Small nasal passages.”

“Great, so my baby is a pig.”

“Stop it. She’s perfect.”

“It’s crazy how you can love someone so much instantly,” Emily agreed.

Gently running her finger down Abigail’s nose, Sienna nodded. “That’s because it’s been in you all along. You were meant to be her mother.”

Sienna had known, as soon as Grace was born, that her love for her had always been there, waiting for the right moment to flow from her heart. That moment came when Grace took her first breath and let out a wailing, joyful cry. The only bittersweetness surrounding Grace’s birth was when Sienna realized there were people who might have carried around the same love for her but would never know it. Like Sienna’s mother or Grace’s biological father.

His loss,she had reminded herself on that first night in the hospital.What a gift to the world she is.

It wasn’t that Grace brought an infinite amount of unconditional love, but her daughter gave Sienna a renewed purpose, a way to turn her life around and leave behind the coasting and partying that had gotten her pregnant.

Peeking at the photo on the fridge, Sienna remembered that Grace had given purpose to more than just her. She had reignited the sparkle in her father’s eye that had dimmed the day her mother had died. Everything she did—from burping to stretching and yawning—brought bragging from Henry.

Grace’s arrival into the world had mended a family that death had broken and re-birthed it into something whole and living.

“Before I forget,” Sienna told Emily. “That bag over there is for you. Grace didn’t even wear most of it. And your check is in there too.”

“You don’t have to pay me for maternity leave, you know.”

---