Page 59 of Sew Matcha in Love
As if on cue, the dogs barked to confirm, and we all laughed.
Arwyn made pink heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast, and we ate a few cookies that were left over from the batch the girls decorated for their class party the day before. I brought them to ballet and snuck out to run quick errands to the print shop and florist.
I doubt they even noticed I was gone.
When we returned home, I set the girls up with a Barbie ballet movie on the sofa and asked Arwyn to come upstairs with me.
I took her hand and led her up the stairs and into my room, to the overly large closet where all her father’s photographs were stored.
“Close your eyes.”
“Should I be afraid?” she challenged.
“I hope not. No-pranks promise, remember?”
She pinned me with a narrow gaze.
“Okay, bad example. Trust me, okay?”
“Okay.”
She closed her eyes, and I snuck over to the far side of the bed where I’d stashed the bag from the print shop. Inside was a box with two large hardcover coffee table books. I laid each book on top of a stack of her father’s boxes.
I guided her over to stand by the first book. “You can open your eyes now.”
Her eyes flickered open and then went wide. “Is this—? When did you?—?”
“It is. A book of all your dad’s wildlife photos. I found some DVDs with the images on them and I made a book.”
“This is … This is amazing.” Page after page of animals native to Colorado filled the book, from the fish swimming in Snowpack Creek to a bear roaming up in the mountains.
“And…” I gently turned her to the next book. “A family scrapbook.”
She gasped. On the cover was a holiday portrait of Arwyn as a little girl in a fancy holiday dress, held jointly by her parents, each in their dress blues. “Where did you find these?”
“In the box labeled ‘Family.’ Your dad was pretty organized.”
“I didn’t know. I—I couldn’t look at them. I was too afraid. It was too painful. But now, here, in this book—somehow, it’s different.”
She spun around to face me. Her eyes were filled with tears ready to spill over. “You’ve given me the most amazing gift.” Her face crumpled as she spoke. “How can I ever thank you?”
“Wynna-bun, this is me thanking you. For taking care of my girls. For loving them. For welcoming us into your home, even when you didn’t like me.”
She laughed. “Ireallydidn’t like you.”
“Don’t I know it! I’ve never been more thankful for good references.” I grinned.
“I was right to be afraid you’d turn my life upside down,” she said. “But I never imagined it’d be a positive upside-downing.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Unlike Monty’s prank.”
She sniffed. “Yeah. I’m rooting for you in that prank war.”
“Good. Because I might need your help.”
“It would be my pleasure.” She wrapped her arms around my middle. “Thank you again for the books. I love them.”
I held her tightly to me. “I’m so glad you do.” I closed my eyes and concentrated on committing this moment to memory. The softness of her body against mine, the rose-scented silky hair with its fly-aways caressing the underside of my chin, the security of her arms against my back.
