Chapter 27 #2
“She still does.” Shay chuckled. “She’ll always be the baby of the group, even if she has grown up some.”
Janie nodded, knowing how much Hannah treasured her place in their little group.
“Your grandmother would be proud of you,” Rosie said softly. “You really fought for yourself and your family.”
“I hope so.” Janie touched the photo gently. “Grandma Susan is the one who made all of this possible. The trust fund allowed Hannah to invest in the garage, it bought our house, and it gave us the resources to fight my mother’s custody case. She protected me even after she was gone.”
“Sounds like she really saw you,” Shay said. “That’s a rare gift to receive.”
“I was so grateful for it.” Janie wrapped her arms around herself. “Especially as I got older and realized my mother wasn’t really looking at me, let alone seeing me.”
Rosie placed her hand on Janie’s shoulder and rubbed gently. “I know that feeling.”
Janie sighed and put her hand over Rosie’s. “I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive, given…”
“Given that my mother just died?” Rosie shook her head. “No, you’re not. You made the decision I couldn’t, and I’d probably still be in a toxic relationship with her if she hadn’t OD’d. You’re really strong, Janie, and I really admire you for that.”
Janie swallowed, not sure how to respond without ending up in tears again, and she’d cried more in the past month than she had in her entire life. It was time to start smiling, so she simply accepted the compliment and smiled.
An easy silence followed, and Janie settled in the moment, juggling her joy at the time she and her grandmother had shared with her grief that she wasn’t there to share the joy now.
“So,” Rosie said and nudged her, “I have news that I’m desperate to share even though this is your party.”
Janie laughed. “I’d be grateful for the spotlight to shift, honestly.”
“I’m going back to being a therapist. There’s an opening at the LGBTQ center. They want someone who can work with their young people. It isn’t going to be anything like my private practice, but it feels right.”
“Rosie, that’s amazing!” Janie hugged her. “You’re going to be incredible.”
“Do you think?” Rosie bit her lip and frowned. “I’m terrified I won’t be any good at it anymore.”
“You’ll be great,” Shay said firmly, draping her arm over Rosie’s shoulders. “And you’re going to help so many people from our community.”
“Exactly.” Janie clasped her hands together. “All those kids who are struggling and think they’re broken, who’ve been disowned or their parents have tried to stop them being who they are…” She shook her head. “You’re going to make such a difference. God knows you’ll be needed now more than ever.”
Rosie’s eyes got shiny, and Shay pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
Happiness surged through Janie as she watched.
They’d found each other and were building something beautiful, just like she and Hannah had.
Her gaze drifted back to the collage, and she took the time to study each photo.
She found herself fixating on one from their wedding day, both of them laughing at something off-camera, joy radiating from every inch of the image.
Hannah came to her side and placed her hand on the small of Janie’s back. “That’s the one I kept staring at too,” she said softly.
“We look so young.” Janie leaned into Hannah’s solid body. “So sure of ourselves.”
“We had no idea what we were getting into.” Hannah laughed lightly.
“No clue about the sleepless nights, or how we’d lose ourselves in being parents.
This family life has really tested us.” She sighed deeply and wrapped her arm around Janie’s waist to pull her in closer.
“But I’d do it all again. Every single hard moment.
Every fight, every struggle, every night I lay awake terrified we weren’t going to make it. ”
Janie turned in Hannah’s arms to look at her, eyebrows raised. “Even the part where I left?”
“Even that. Because you came back, and we’re stronger for it.” Hannah caressed Janie’s cheek, a wistful look in her eyes. “This version of us has survived the worst, and we’re still here. We’re better than the naive version in that photo. We know what we have now and what it’s worth.”
Janie pressed her face into Hannah’s chest. “I’m so glad you never gave up on me.”
“I couldn’t. You’re my person, and you always have been.” Hannah took her hand. “Come on, there’s something else I want to show you.”
Hannah led her through the garage and upstairs to her little office in the back, the space where she did her design work.
Sketches of custom paint jobs covered the walls alongside photos of completed projects.
On her drawing desk lay a rich red leather-bound portfolio Janie hadn’t seen before. “What’s that?” she asked.
“Open it.”
Janie flipped open the cover, and her breath caught.
Inside were dozens of sketches, all of the same subject: her.
Janie reading on the couch. Her laughing with the triplets.
Janie asleep in their bed, hair spread across the pillow.
Her profile backlit by morning light. Some were detailed and precise, others just quick drawings, but all of them were rendered with such care, such attention and love that Janie’s throat tightened. “When did you do these?” she whispered.
“Over the past month. I started right after you left, actually.” Hannah moved to stand beside her, looking down at the drawings as she put her hand on Janie’s hip.
“I couldn’t sleep most nights, so I’d sit up and draw.
At first, I was just trying to remember what you looked like when you smiled.
I was desperate to hold onto the good parts of us.
But then it became something else. I started to see you again, not just as the mother of my kids, but as you.
The whole, complex, beautiful person I’d somehow stopped really looking at. ”
Janie came to the final sketch of her in the courtroom, sitting at the defendant’s table.
Hannah had captured something in her expression that Janie hadn’t known was there: not just fear but determination.
Strength. “The custody hearing.” Obviously, they both knew the location, but she vocalized it anyway, wanting to make the connection between that and the emotions Hannah had captured tangible.
Hannah nodded. “I watched you sit there and face down your mother’s lawyer, face down all that fear, and it made me even more proud of you. And I wanted to immortalize that version of you.” She pointed to her own scribble below the drawing. “The fighter.”
Janie’s hands shook as she flipped back through the pages.
There was one of her with Maria at the café, leaning forward in conversation.
One of her in her work clothes, briefcase in hand, looking fierce and professional.
Another of her sitting on the couch, holding all three triplets at once, face scrunched up with effort but smiling. “I had no idea you drew like this.”
“I guess I stopped when I went in the Army, and I don’t get much time now either.
” Hannah shrugged. “I had no idea I was going to show you, to be honest. But when I decided to throw this party, I knew I had to.” She took Janie’s hand.
“These taught me to see you again. And what I saw was someone incredible, someone worth fighting for.” She cupped Janie’s face and kissed her softly.
“Someone I never want to stop looking at.”
Janie stared into the seemingly bottomless love in Hannah’s gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Hannah said and kissed her again. “I just wanted you to know that even in the worst moments, even when we were apart and everything felt impossible, I saw you. And I’m never going to stop seeing you.”
Janie pulled Hannah into a kiss that was equal parts gratitude, love, and promise. When they broke apart, Hannah held her tight, and they stood there in the quiet of her office, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in.
“Thank you for that,” Janie whispered and flicked a glance at the sketchbook.
“I’m glad you like it.”
A knock on the door made them both jump, and RB stuck her head in. “Sorry to interrupt whatever disgustingly romantic moment you’re having, but I need everyone in the main bay. I have an announcement.”
“We’ll be right there,” Hannah said.
After RB disappeared, Janie looked back at the portfolio. “Were you just showing me this, or do I get to keep it?”
“It’s yours,” Hannah said and cast her eyes downward as her face flushed. “I’m just happy you want to keep it.”
“Of course I do.” Janie wrapped her hand around the back of Hannah’s neck and pulled her in for one last kiss. “You’re so talented.”
They returned to the main garage hand in hand, with Janie’s steps lighter yet more solid, as if Hannah’s gift had reminded her of something fundamental: she was loved and, most importantly of all, she was enough.
Across the room, RB’s voice rose above the general chatter. “Okay, okay, everyone shut up for a second. I have an announcement.”
The room quieted, and everyone turned to RB, who looked uncharacteristically nervous. “So,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I’ve been offered a temporary position.” She ran her hand through her hair, adjusting her quiff slightly. “In New York.”
There was a collective intake of breath, and Hannah’s grip on Janie’s hand tightened.
“What kind of position?” Gabe asked.
RB looked across at Lori. “Working with Hank on his veterans’ housing project. He needs someone to help launch the first shelter, someone who understands the population, who can do intake and assessment, and someone who’s not going to take shit from bureaucrats. Apparently, I fit the bill.”
Janie nodded, remembering Lori and her dad telling everyone about the project at Lori’s birthday meal a couple of months ago. It’d been clear then that RB was excited by the proposal.
“Are you going to take it?” Woody asked quietly.