Page 55 of Never Forget
I'd encouraged her to collect all the things she wanted to tell her mom and dad when her wings were big enough to take her where they were. All of her drawings were saved up in a manila envelope she kept on her nightstand. She'd taken to it with the seriousness of a librarian building an archive. Every few days, she added a new drawing.
"Of course you can," I said. "What’s this one about?"
Rosie climbed onto the couch beside me and spread the paper across both our laps. She pointed to a row of colorful blobs—her attempt at shapes.
"These are the continents," she said. "Miss Hartley taught us today. There's seven."
"Seven continents. That's a big lesson."
"This one's Africa." She pointed to an orange blob. "And this one's Antartica."
"Antarctica," I corrected gently.
"That's what I said." She frowned at me like I was the one who had it wrong. "And this one's South America, and this one's Ostralia."
"Australia."
"Auntie Jamie, you're not saying it right."
I laughed. The sound surprised me. A minute ago I'd been fantasizing about breaking Bryce Montgomery's nose, and now I was being corrected on pronunciation by a four-year-old who couldn't say Antarctica.
"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry. Keep going."
She walked me through the rest of the continents, pointing to each blob with authority. Some of them were labeled in wobbly preschool handwriting. Others had small figures drawn on them, which Rosie explained were the animals that lived there. A penguin in Antarctica. An elephant in Africa. Something that might have been a kangaroo in Australia, though it looked more like a lumpy dog.
When she finished, she looked up at me. "Do you think Daddy will like it?"
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "I think he'll love it."
"I want to show him all the places." She traced her finger over the drawing. "When I have my wings, maybe we can visit them together."
I pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like baby shampoo and crayons.
Bryce could say whatever he wanted about Jack. He could block the appeal and smile while he did it. But he didn't get to tell Rosie who her father was. I did.
Loretta stopped by on her way to the airport.
"I wanted to see you both before I left."
I walked down the steps with Rosie on my hip. "What time's your flight?"
"Two hours. Plenty of time." She reached out and touched Rosie's cheek. "You be good, okay?"
"Okay," Rosie said.
Loretta looked at me. "I wish the timing were better."
“That little one needs her Nana. We’ll be here when you get back.”
"You'll call me after the hearing?"
"The minute it's done."
She stepped forward and hugged me, one arm around my shoulder, careful not to squish Rosie between us.
"You've got this," she said quietly. "Jack knew what he was doing when he chose you."
There was something about Loretta that made everything feel manageable. Like the world could be falling apart, but if she was in the room, you could breathe.
