Three separate phases, when all three of them hated me at the same time. June, at 13, knocking on doors. Claire, 15, refused to look at me for a month. And Ava, 17, told me she didn’t understand anything.
I didn’t. But I stayed.
I just made grilled cheese.
I missed things too.
- A cousin’s wedding in Denver because Claire had the flu.
- A fishing holiday that I promised myself for 10 years.
- The opportunity to have one family own.
- And Diana, the woman I love.
Diana was patient for a long time. More time than it should have been.
I missed things too.
“I’m not asking you to choose,” he said one night at the front door. “I’m asking if there’s room.”
“There isn’t,” I said. “He’s not the guy you deserve.”
She nodded as if she already knew. He left a sweater. I never gave it back.
