Page 110 of Return Policy
Sophia shakes her head, but Will continues, “She’s the swarm of lovebugs surrounding us every spring. Your beautiful green eyes. The way you always protect your friends…” His lips curl upwards. “Don’t you remember the bunny that passed through the yard, and you said it was Chloe reminding you to believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast?” Sophia lets out a low, quiet laugh. “You don’t feel her in one place anymore because she’s everywhere, Bear. She’ll never be gone. She’ll always be a part of you. Even if you can’t see her. Even if you don’t feel her. She’s there. She’shere.” The words settle in my chest like they were meant for me, and I no longer try to hide the tears streaming down my face.
“I have to believe that Chloe is in a better place…” Will continues, choking back tears. “Waiting patiently for us.”
Sophia looks up at him, smiling sadly. “In Wonderland?”
“Yeah.” Will lets out a weak laugh. “I suppose Chloe’s in Wonderland.” She throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I really am sorry, Bear,” he mumbles into her hair.
“Me too,” she says quietly. “I know you work hard for our family… I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t appreciate that.”
“It’s okay.”
“I forgive you,” she mumbles, and I can physically see the weight release from Will’s shoulders. “Can I ask you a question though?”
“Of course.”
“When did you start sewing?” she asks, looking at him with a serious face.
Will huffs out a laugh. “Soph, it’s not mine. It’s Diane’s.”
“Why would Diane have a sewing room in our house?”
“Well, we planned to tell you at dinner… But Diane moved in last month.”
“Oh,” Sophia says, a light switching on in her brain as she looks around the room. “Well, I guess that makes a lot more sense than you having picked up interior design at the age of fifty.”
“First of all, young lady,” he scoffs, “I am forty-nine. Second, I’m really happy. Diane is incredible. Please try to be okay with it?”
“Dad, I’m happy if you’re happy… I just wish you would’ve told me you were clearing out Chloe’s room… I could’ve helped.” She takes his hand in hers. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“No…” He releases a heavy breath. “It wasn’t. But it was time.”
“Hey, Will,” Diane calls from the door to the backyard. “Can you help me move some of the patio furniture so I can start setting the table?”
“Sure, be right there,” he replies, pulling Sophia in for a tight hug and shooting me a weak smile before leaving the room. Sophia stares at me with devastated eyes, and I wrap my arms around her.
“I’m still upset,” she says quietly, burrowing her face in my chest.
“I know.”
“Is it normal?” she asks, sighing heavily.
“What, baby?”
“Is it normal she’s been gone nine years and I have this reaction to a few stupid trinkets being thrown out?”
“There isn’t really anormalway to experience grief. Grief isn’t linear. You don’t just wake up every day a little less sad. Some days are worse than others… Chloe was a big part of you, and losing her room probably felt a bit like losing her all over again.”
She looks up at me with glossy eyes. “You always have the best advice for this grief stuff.”
I shrug, swallowing hard and feeling like a damn fraud since I can’t even follow my own advice.
* * *
We sit down at the beautifully set patio table Diane created. Tiny turkeys are scattered around, with orange placemats and silverware wrapped in twine. Everything is very festive, and it all reminds me of home. I’m sure Mom has a tablescape mirroring this one set up on the farm table in our kitchen today.
“This looks delicious,” I say, dropping a large scoop of mashed potatoes on my plate.
“Thank you.” Diane beams. “I love cooking, so this is one of my favorite holidays.”
