Page 24 of Never Forget
"Auntie Jamie?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
She looked up at me with Jack's eyes. That same steady gaze.
"Where's Daddy? When is he coming home?"
The kitchen went still.
I knew this moment was coming. You can't hide death from a child, no matter how much you want to. I thought of Jack a year ago, kneeling on this same floor, explaining to Rosie that her mother had grown wings and started working in the clouds. I'd stood in the doorway and watched him find the words—gentle, simple, full of light instead of darkness. He'd made death sound like a promotion instead of an ending.
I looked at Sam. He looked as lost as I felt.
I knelt down until I was eye level with her and took her small hands in mine.
"Rosie, sweetheart. Do you remember what Daddy told you about Mommy? About where she went?"
Rosie nodded slowly. "She grew angel wings. She's in the clouds now."
"That's right." My voice was steady. I didn't know how.
"Mommy and Daddy are working in the clouds now. Keeping the sun shining and the rain falling."
Rosie looked up at me, her rabbit pressed to her chest. "Together?"
"Together." I smoothed her hair back. "To go that high, you need special angel wings."
"Like birds?"
"Even better than birds. But those wings only grow very, very slowly." I held her small hands in mine. "One tiny feather at a time, for every year you grow big, and kind, and brave."
She considered this. "That's a lot of feathers."
"It is. By the time you have your wings, you'll be an old lady with a whole life of stories to tell them."
"Stories about what?"
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything. School. Friends. Adventures. All the things that happen while you're growing those feathers." My voice caught. I steadied it. "They’ll want to hear every single story."
Rosie considered this. Then nodded, serious.
"I'll have lots of stories."
"You will, sweetheart. So many stories."
She tucked her head under my chin, her small body warm against my chest. The rabbit pressed between us.
Over her shoulder, I saw Sam. He was watching us, his eyes bright, his jaw tight.
I held her tighter and let myself be grateful for the story Jack had given her. He'd been trying to help his daughter make sense of losing her mother.
Now it was helping her make sense of losing him too.
CHAPTER 5
Jamie
The church was full by the time the service began.
