Chapter 8
Sunshine
I realized I was looking for him before I admitted it to myself.
The thought came sometime around midmorning while I stood in the pantry counting canned vegetables.
I had just reached forty-seven cans of green beans when my eyes drifted automatically toward the kitchen window overlooking the gardens.
Nothing.
I returned to counting.
Forty-eight.
Forty-nine.
Fifty.
A minute later...
I looked again.
Still nothing.
I sighed quietly.
"What are you doing?"
Melissa's amused voice startled me enough that I nearly dropped the clipboard in my hands.
"I..."
I looked back toward the shelves.
"...counting."
"You've counted the same shelf three times."
"I have not."
She smiled.
"You have."
Heat immediately found my cheeks.
"I got distracted."
"I noticed."
She leaned casually against the pantry doorway.
"Looking for somebody?"
"No."
The answer came much too quickly.
Melissa's smile widened.
"I didn't say who."
"I know."
"Mhm."
She folded her arms.
"You know..."
"I'm not matchmaking."
"I wasn't thinking that."
"You were."
"I might've been."
She laughed softly.
"I was actually going to tell you that Remedy took Charlie into town."
I blinked.
"They did?"
"Mhm."
"The pediatric dentist."
I felt an immediate flutter of concern.
"Is she alright?"
Melissa nodded.
"Just a cleaning."
The tightness in my chest eased before I could stop it.
"Good."
Melissa watched me for another moment.
"You were worried."
"Of course I was."
"Because Charlie's family."
The words left my mouth naturally.
Without hesitation.
Melissa smiled.
"I know."
It wasn't until she disappeared back into the hallway that I realized what I'd said.
I'd called them Charlie's family without giving the words a second thought.
I hadn't been thinking about Harbor House or the clubhouse.
I had been thinking about the people who showed up for my daughter day after day, loved her without hesitation, and gave her a childhood filled with laughter instead of fear.
Somewhere along the way, they'd quietly become the family we'd built together, and I was beginning to realize Sunshine was finding her place among them too.
As though the little girl somehow occupied a place in my heart entirely her own.
Maybe she did.
The morning remained busy.
Three new donations arrived from a local church.
A counseling group met in the library.
Bishop organized volunteers to repair the playground fence before the weekend.
Normally those responsibilities would have carried me straight through lunch.
Today...
I found my thoughts wandering more often than usual.
To Charlie.
To the tiny white feather tucked carefully inside the pages of my journal.
To a folded handkerchief resting in the top drawer of my bedside table.
To a quiet doctor who somehow made every difficult conversation feel just a little easier to survive.
I caught myself smiling while folding towels.
Again while sorting crayons.
Once more while reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to six children gathered around the rug in the playroom.
Emily looked up halfway through the story.
"Why are you smiling?"
I blinked.
"I am?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"You've been smiling all day."
Had I?
Apparently.
I hadn't even realized.
The familiar rumble of a pickup truck finally drifted through the open windows just after noon.
Before anyone else reacted...
Half the children looked toward the front door.
"Daddy's back!"
Charlie burst into the hallway before the truck engine had completely shut off.
She hadn't been inside.
She'd been helping Nathan chalk flowers across the back patio.
Yet somehow...
She always knew when Remedy arrived.
Children noticed the sounds they associated with safety.
I stepped onto the front porch just as Remedy climbed from the driver's seat.
Charlie reached him before he had time to close the truck door.
"There you are!"
He laughed as she wrapped herself around one of his legs.
"There I am."
"Did the dentist fix your teeth?"
He looked down thoughtfully.
"I think he mostly admired them."
Charlie giggled.
"He said I was brave."
"I heard."
"I didn't even cry."
"You didn't."
She held up a tiny paper bag decorated with smiling cartoon teeth.
"I got stickers."
"I see that."
Then her eyes landed on me.
"My Sunshine!"
She hurried toward the porch.
"You came outside."
"I did."
"I wanted you to see."
She proudly emptied the little paper bag into my hands.
Three colorful toothbrushes.
A dinosaur sticker.
A tiny tube of toothpaste.
And...
A bright purple plastic ring with a sparkling fake jewel.
"The dentist gave you a ring?"
Charlie nodded.
"I got two."
She picked up the purple one before carefully slipping it onto my finger.
"This one's yours."
My heart stumbled.
"I couldn't take your prize."
"I got another."
She proudly held up the pink one already decorating her own finger.
"Now we match."
I looked down at the little plastic ring.
It probably cost less than a dollar.
Yet somehow...
It felt like one of the most precious gifts I'd ever received.
"I'll treasure it."
Charlie smiled.
"I knew you would."
Remedy walked onto the porch carrying Charlie's backpack.
He watched the exchange quietly before shaking his head with a smile.
"I tried telling her she didn't have to give it away."
Charlie looked at him.
"I wanted to."
"I know."
He looked toward me.
"She spent the whole drive home deciding who deserved the second ring."
I blinked.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"There was apparently an extensive list."
Charlie looked very serious.
"I picked right."
I laughed softly.
"I think you did too."
She slipped her tiny hand into mine.
"Come see."
"What am I seeing?"
"My brave sticker."
She immediately began pulling me toward the kitchen where several Harbor House residents had already gathered to admire the treasure she'd brought home.
Remedy fell into step beside us.
For several moments none of us spoke.
Charlie happily chattered enough for all three.
As we walked together through the old farmhouse hallway...
Our shadows stretched across the polished wooden floor.
Three figures walked side by side across the grass, each a different height and each carrying a different story, yet somehow moving together with an easy rhythm that looked as though they'd always belonged together.
Sunshine glanced toward them almost absentmindedly, but the simple picture caught her by surprise.
It wasn't because it looked perfect. She knew life was never that simple.
It was because the scene held the kind of quiet, ordinary happiness she'd spent years believing belonged to other people.
For the first time, instead of looking away, she found herself wondering whether there might still be a place for her inside a picture like that.