“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“And you’re supposed to be giving stuff away, not holding it up to the mirror.”
Emily blinked and looked over at Charlotte, who sat a few feet away on the hardwood floors with her legs stretched out on either side of a brown box. Her light-blond hair was piled into a bun on top of her head, with a few wisps framing her heart-shaped face. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and her mouth was twisted into a frown.
Already, she had pit stains and dirt streaks all over her jeans.
Savannah, on the other hand, stood in front of the full-length mirror, holding a dress up to her body. She twisted to and fro and examined herself critically, and when a strong gust of wind blew in through the open window, she turned to it with a grin. After securing the latch on the window, Savannah turned to her mother with a smile, one that mirrored Trevor’s so closely it made Emily freeze.
She still wasn’t used to seeing Trevor in her younger daughter’s face.
Or hearing his laughter come out of Savannah’s mouth.
And sometimes, being around it was so unnerving it took Emily a while to recover. In the weeks following her late husband’s death, it had been unsettling to be around Savannah, but in the time since then, she’d long since learned to accept her uncanny resemblance to Trevor and the fact it wasn’t her daughter’s fault.
At least it felt like she got to keep another part of him with her.
With a sigh, Emily wrenched her gaze away from Savannah and returned to the box in front of her, full of Trevor’s old college clothes. She took out a few more items and rummaged around till she came across a weathered silver trophy. As soon as she took it out, Charlotte and Savannah drifted closer to her, and the three of them lapsed into silence.
“I know Dad said he used to play college ball, but I kind of thought he exaggerated how good he was,” Charlotte admitted with a grimace. “Now I feel bad about all the jokes I made at his expense.”
Emily’s throat felt dry. “I’m sure your dad knew you were kidding. Besides, he wasn’t always able to talk about what happened.”
Savannah sank onto the floor next to them and tucked her legs underneath her. “Is it because of his knee injury?”
“Among other things,” Emily responded after a too-long pause. “I think he just didn’t know how to bring it up sometimes. But when he did, man, it was like his entire face lit up.”
Charlotte and Savannah exchanged quick looks.
“I remember him trying to teach me how to play,” Charlotte added after a brief pause. “I think he was really disappointed to find out how uncoordinated I was.”
Savannah pointed a finger at her sister. “So, it’syourfault he turned his attention to me. I was his sloppy second choice.”
Emily set the trophy down and stood. “Neither of you were sloppy seconds. Your dad just wanted to pass down his love of the game.”
“Yeah, but out of the two of us, Charlotte should’ve been the one to take one for the team. That’s how it’s supposed to work with older siblings. You’re meant to be shouldering the hopes and dreams of the parents, so us younger siblings can get away with stuff.”
Emily placed both hands on her hips. “Uh-huh. Just what were you getting away with, young lady?”
Savannah dropped her finger and pretended to rummage through the box. “It was just a figure of speech, Mom. Don’t take it so literally.”
Emily glanced between the two of them, who kept sneaking glances at each other when they thought she wasn’t looking. “You two do know I can see you looking at each other, right? And I know you used to get into trouble.”
Charlotte rose to her feet and used a bandana to tie her hair back. “How? Dad was always the one covering for us.”
Emily smiled and shrugged. “It was our little secret.”
The three of them lapsed into silence and returned to rifling through the boxes. With summer around the corner, Emily knew it was high time for her to clean up the attic. She hadn’t been up there since Trevor’s untimely death, being gripped with an intense and powerful wave of panic and fear each time she even thought of it, but it had been long enough.
Holding on to Trevor’s things was no longer healthy or helpful.
And the thought of giving away some of her older things no longer filled her with dread.
A part of her mourned the loss of the life they could’ve had together as an older couple in their respective rocking chairs, surrounded by their grandkids. But the other part of hersuspected what she’d known for a while; letting go came in small waves, and she had to do it little by little. Each morning, she had to put one foot in front of the other until it wasn’t as hard anymore.
One day, she hoped it would come as second nature as she learned to live and grow around the grief that never left her side.
“You know, we should have a potluck, just like the ones Dad used to organize with his friends,” Charlotte suggested, her voice bringing Emily back to the present with a jolt.
