“If you felt it, it was real,” I tell him.
Sophie and Gully run into the garden then. They come to an ungainly stop before us, Gully’s tongue lolling impressively from the side of his mouth. Sophie’s enjoyment of this moment does not erase the shadow that looms behind her eyes. I finally allow myself to wonder if there is a scent among my flowers that might help her. In response, the warm, earthy scent of the grey musk sage that blooms on the side of the path lifts and swirls around me, and then travels toward Sophie, shimmering and golden.
“There you are,” Adam tells Sophie, smiling. “I was beginning to wonder if you two had run away.”
I gaze at Sophie, her tangle of tawny hair, the sadness that slopes her thin shoulders. She is just a child.
Adam and Sophie are both looking at me. Even Gully is looking up at me, his head tilted and a question in his eyes.
“I was just telling Sophie about this garden,” Adam says. “I told her that all of the plants here are native to California, just like her.”
“Yes, that’s right,” I say. “Just like you, Sophie.”
I think of Jack Harris’s belief that remembering the truth about his father altered the course of his life for the better. I think ofMarjorie promising me that Cynthia would not have changed a thing. I hear my mother’s voice telling me that if you can’t find magic, you must make it.
The long stems of the sage grow and stretch magnificently over the path, each displaying a bright spray of fragrant violet flowers. I crouch beside the plant and look up at Sophie.
“This one is called grey musk sage,” I tell her, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “It has the most beautiful scent. I think you’ll love it.”
I lean over the blooms and close my eyes and draw in a long breath. My eyes are still closed when I hear Sophie move beside me. We breathe in together.
A moment passes.
Then another.
“Oh!” I hear Sophie cry.
My eyes fly open, and I see that fat tears fall down the little girl’s cheeks.
Adam crouches at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
She throws her arms around him. “I saw her,” she whimpers.
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Sophie speak, and her voice is so small and young that I wish desperately that I could throw my arms around her, too. Instead I stand and take a step back, the sour taste of fear in my throat.
“She was—she was next to me,” Sophie says, hiccupping through her tears. “She was reading to me in my bed and I had my head on her shoulder and I could smell her—”
Adam runs his hand down Sophie’s hair, trying to comfort her. “What do you mean, honey?” he asks softly. “Who?”
Sophie pulls her head from where she’d buried it in his neckand it’s then that I understand that she is not scared. Not exactly, anyway.
“Mom! I saw Mom!” she says in a rush. “She was reading. I heard her voice, and then I looked up and she stopped reading and she kissed my forehead. Isawher, Dad. I felt her!”
Adam’s dark eyes shine. “You’re talking,” he whispers. Now it’s his turn to bury his head into her neck. “Sophie, you’re talking.”
But she draws back, shaking her head impatiently. “Dad, listen! I saw her brown eyes! I saw the beauty mark on her cheek and those tiny gold star earrings in her ears.”
Adam stares at her, his brow creased. “Her star earrings? You remember those?”
“I didn’t think I could,” she says, tears streaming down her cheeks, “but I can! I remember Mom now! I know how she smells. I know the sound of her voice. I saw her. I saw Mom!”
“Wait,” Adam says. His voice is raspy with emotion. “You didn’t think you could remember Mom?”
Sophie looks down. When she speaks, her voice is barely more than a whisper. “I couldn’t. I could only remember the Mom in the photos and the videos, but not Real Mom… not what it felt like when she was in the room with me. Not what she smelled like. The sound of her voice. I… forgot her. I forgot her. I’m sorry, Dad. I forgot her. I’m terrible.” She releases a shuddering sob, burying her head into her father’s shoulder again.
“Oh, Sophie.” Adam runs his hand over the back of her head. “You’re the exact opposite of terrible. You’re wonderful. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
After a few moments, Sophie’s cries subside and she lifts herhead. “I saw her,” she says again, emphatically. “Just now. I know it was in my head, but it felt so real. Like it really just happened and… Dad, what’s wrong?”
