I lowered the camera.
Then my girls, or rather young women, came back onto the stage together, holding hands the way they used to when crossing parking lots at five years old.
Something pulled tight in my chest, though I didn’t know why.
June took the microphone.
“Our father couldn’t be here today,” she said.
My stomach dropped through the auditorium floor.
Daniel.
They were going to speak about Daniel.
Twenty-two years of birthday cards he never mailed, phone calls he never made, and now, on the one day I had truly shown up for, they were going to honor the man who hadn’t.
The hurt rose in my throat like it had been waiting there all along. I told myself to stay still, to smile, and to let them have this if they needed it.
Ava reached into the sleeve of her gown and took out a folded sheet of paper. Claire covered her mouth with one hand, and I saw her shoulders trembling.
read more in next page
