And for the first time in months, I felt that our household decisions were genuinely being made together.
Later, Nick asked whether I wanted him to carry the bags to the car.
“Please,” I said.
Such a simple question.
Such a simple answer.
And yet it represented something we’d nearly lost.
Respect.
Permission.
The understanding that one person’s belongings and choices didn’t automatically belong to everyone else.
When we returned home, I carried Nora upstairs.
She was sleepy, resting against my shoulder.
The sage-green dress lay across our bed where I’d left it that morning.
I looked at it for a long moment.
I’d considered giving it to Tara.
But then I’d remembered the photographs at the lake.
The afternoon when Elaine held my coat.
The moment I’d looked at myself and felt beautiful again.
That dress was more than a piece of maternity clothing.
