Epilogue
I stand at my dresser mirror, in the very room my mother once called hers. It’s different now, with pieces of my new life scattered about, but still it smells of her, and her memory greets me each time I enter. Funny how places become people, how this house and her old iron bed still pull me in and offer comfort when I need it. But unlike those forlorn days nearly two years ago, my need for comfort is rare now.
I fasten the clasp of my pearl necklace. From the nursery down the hall—my old bedroom—I hear my daughter screech with laughter. I smile and check my face one last time. Suddenly, in the mirror’s reflection, my life appears. I spin around and the gates of heaven swing open.
“Who’s got my big girl?” I ask Austin.
“Dada,” she says, looking delicious in her ruffled party dress and polka-dot headband.
Garrett kisses her cheek and points to me. “Look at Mommy’s pretty white dress. Isn’t she beautiful?”
She giggles and buries her face in his neck. Smart baby. I’d nuzzle that neck, too, clean-shaven and tan, set against a crisp white shirt and black suit.
He reaches out his hand to me. “Today’s the day. Are you nervous?”
“Not at all. Just excited.”
“Same here.” He bends down and his lips graze my ear. “Nobody deserves to be as happy as I am. Nobody.”
My body erupts in gooseflesh.
We’re nearly to the car when I realize I’ve forgotten the programs for the ceremony. While Garrett secures Austin into her car seat, I run back inside.
The house is quiet now, none of Austin’s prattle or Garrett’s hearty laughter. I find the pamphlets on the coffee table, just where I’d left them. As I turn to leave, I notice my mother’s photo. Her eyes twinkle, as if she’s pleased with what I’m about to do. And I think she would be.
“Wish me luck, Mom,” I whisper.
I lift a pink program from atop the stack and place it beside her picture.
S UNDAY , THE S EVENTH OF A UGUST
O NE O ’ CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON
R IBBON C UTTING C EREMONY
S ANQUITA H OUSE
749 U LYSSES A VENUE
C HICAGO ’ S N EWEST S HELTER FOR W OMEN
WITH C HILDREN
I close the door behind me and dash to the car, where my fortune awaits—the heart-stopping, I’d die for you loves of my life, my husband and our baby girl.