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Giving her a reassuring smile—because was she worried about that? Was she worried he’d been here with her for the milestone?—he said, “It’s okay. I FaceTimed with Becks this morning to celebrate.” Picking his phone up off the table, he opened hisRubyfolder, showing them the screenshot he’d taken of her stuffing a chocolate chip pancake into her mouth during their call.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Linda said. With Cole’s help, she flipped through a few more pictures before pausing on the selfie of Ruby sleeping on his chest, the one he’d sent to Mira what felt like ages ago now.
Pointing at Mira, Linda said, “I think I have a picture of your father holding you like this somewhere. Although”—her lips pressed tight—“I can’t for the life of me remember where I put it.”
“Most of the old pictures are in storage,” Mira told her. “But we can go to the unit tomorrow and get them if you want to.”
“No, no. It’s all right.” Linda looked at the picture again before handing Cole’s phone back to him. “She’s perfect.”
Cole laughed. “She also wails like a fire engine.”
“Do you remember how loud Ian used to be?” Linda asked. “He was colicky,” she told Cole, quietly like it was a secret, tapping her fingernails on her wineglass. “He’d screamed bloody murder from dinner to bedtime.”
“We had to take turns walking him back and forth down the alley.” Mira shuddered. “In the dead of winter.”
“Back then, there was a laundromat in the empty building across the street, and the owner called the cops on us. Twice.”
“I forgot all about that,” Mira said, shaking her head. “Honestly, I think I’ve blocked a lot of that time out. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through.” She looked at her mom, her throat working through a swallow. “I have no idea how I would have gotten through it alone.”
There was a weight to the moment, to Mira’s words, and Cole felt it like a current tugging on his boat, changing his course. Turning to Linda, he asked, “What was Mira like as a baby?”
Linda’s eyes lit up. “Oh, a lot like she is now. Quiet, thoughtful, sensitive.”
“That’s so not true,” Mira said, sitting back in her chair, bringing her glass of wine with her. “You told me I didn’t sleep through the night until I was one. And I used to steal all the chocolate chip cookie dough from you and Gramps.”
Linda waved a hand through the air. “That was when you were three. Everyone’s an asshole when they’re three.”
“I’d thought I might have to hire a young priest and an old priest for an exorcism when Becks was three,” Cole concurred.
“You were a very easy baby.” Linda reached over to squeeze Mira’s hand. “An easy kid. An easy teen. A wonderful daughter. I’ve never been so proud of anyone or anything, except maybe for Ian.”
Mira’s eyes shone then, sparkling like gems. And when she said, “I love you, Mom,” with a broken warble, Cole suddenly felt too involved in this conversation that seemed like it should exist only between them. Rising from his chair, he said, “Let me get the dishes.”
“That’s not necessary, Cole.”
Collecting Linda’s plate, he told her, “It’s the least I can do.”
Gazing up at him while he took her plate, Mira said, “Thank you,” and he wanted to kiss her then, kiss away that sadness in her eyes. But he only nodded and retreated to the kitchen.
While he washed and dried the dishes, he listened to Mira and Linda talk, he listened to them laugh. He watched them drink their wine, Mira’s hand sliding over her mom’s, Linda’s head shaking back and forth as she swiped a knuckle under her eye. He listened to the music drifting through the apartment and felt moved. The song was about fate being a guide. Fate had brought him here, and he was grateful.
When he returned to the table, Linda finished what remained of her wine, then said, “I’m afraid it’s past my bedtime.”
“Already?” he asked, holding out his hand, helping her to her feet.
“Sleep is hard to come by, sometimes,” she said with a yawn that felt forced. “And I actually feel tired tonight. Remind me, Cole. How much longer are you here?”
“Two weeks,” he told her.
“That’s not long at all, is it?” Holding his gaze, she patted his arm. “Good thing Seattle isn’t very far away.”
In that moment, he became transparent as glass, like she could see his heart beating beneath his ribs, her daughter’s name scrawled all over it. “Good thing,” he agreed.
After saying good night, Cole slid into his seat again while Linda made her way to her bedroom. But the moment her door snicked shut, Mira’s head dropped into her hands, her shoulder shaking.
“Mira? Are you okay?”
In the silence, the quietest sob he’d ever heard escaped between her fingers.
