Chapter 12 - The Life She Had Planned
The next morning, Grant searched the wedding folder Vanessa had shared with him.
Flight confirmations.
Dinner reservations.
A list of things for the house while they were away.
Inside a subfolder labeled FAMILY TRANSITION sat correspondence with a residential program for young children.
Vanessa had asked about future enrollment and how soon a child could begin staying overnight.
The director's answer was polite and firm.
An inquiry was not an application.
They required the legal guardian's direct participation and an assessment before discussing placement.
Grant read the exchange twice.
There was no secret enrollment.
No completed plan.
Just Vanessa exploring how to move his daughter out of the life she wanted.
And she'd used the idea to frighten Rose before it was even possible.
He sent the correspondence to his attorney and Ruiz.
Then he closed the computer.
Leah found him in Emma's old sitting room with the cedar chest open.
“I should've opened this years ago.”
“You can open it today.”
Inside were photographs, a faded sweatshirt, a tiny yellow hat, and an envelope in Emma's handwriting.
For the nights you think you can't do this.
He remembered it now.
They'd written letters to each other during the last month of her pregnancy, a joke about how badly they'd handle sleep deprivation.
After the funeral, everything from that time had become too hard to touch.
He unfolded the page.
Grant,
If the baby has been crying for three hours, check whether you've eaten anything besides coffee. Then remember she didn't ask us to know everything. She just needs us to keep trying.
Don't turn parenting into one of your projects. There won't be a day when you finish and hand it off.
Also, if she gets your stubborn streak, you owe me an apology.
He laughed once, then covered his face.
Leah sat on the floor beside him until he could breathe normally.
That afternoon, he showed Rose a photograph of Emma wearing the yellow hat on two fingers.
“That's for a very small head,” Rose said.
“Yours.”
“Was she silly?”
“Extremely.”
They spent an hour looking at pictures.
No formal speech.
No demand that Rose feel something special.
Just her mother eating fries, making faces, living.
At bedtime, Rose asked to keep one photograph beside her lamp.
May you like
Then she looked up at Grant.
“If Mommy loved me before I could do anything, why did I have to earn it with Vanessa?”
