Epilogue
“Say cheese,” Mom says, crouching to get the best angle with her camera.
Caleb wraps his arm around me, and Sadie jumps behind us holding bunny ears over both of our heads.
Mom snaps the picture. Then she fans her face.
“You aren’t crying again, are you?” I ask.
“You look so grown up. I can’t help it.”
All three of us are sporting our graduation gowns over our formal attire. I hate it, to be honest. Not only did I have to get dressed up, I had to hide my outfit behind a giant blue cape.
Sadie, on the other hand, threatened to wear hers for the next week. She loves the unflattering material. “I have to keep the guys away somehow. Think of this as my man repellent.”
“My turn,” Mrs. Park says. Next to her is Jordy, who smiles wide at us.
The three of us pose again.
“Do a funny one!” Jordy yells.
We each make a face, but right before the picture is snapped, Caleb kisses my forehead.
Sadie squeezes in between us. “Joint custody, remember?” she says to Caleb.
Caleb hops around to my other side, taking my hand. “I’m not good at sharing.”
She scowls at him. “I have dibs.”
Dad walks up to us. In his hands is one of my paintings.
They displayed it along with a bunch of other pieces from our class.
It’s a painting in my signature style with thick lines and raised colored texture.
The scene is an abstract version of a sandy beach and calm waters.
In the picture, I’m running after Ethan.
Every stroke is peaceful and calm because when I think about that trip, I remember the laughs and the joy. And even though he’s in the picture, it isn’t a picture of grief.
It’s one of acceptance—a reminder that thinking about him is what keeps him with us.
A reminder that, even through the pain, we will be okay.