“I rented many things,” I admitted.
“And snacks,” Winnie added. “We have a wide variety of snacks.”
Chaos erupted. I’d paid our housekeeper to make a special house call on a Sunday to cover the picnic table beneath the pavilion in everything Jade used to love during movie nights. Popcorn. Chocolate-covered strawberries. Fancy cheese she insisted made her “cultured.” Gummy worms. Mini sandwiches. Lemon bars. The terrible jalapeño chips she adored despite claiming every single time that they “weren’t even spicy.”
“Mom would’ve loved this,” CJ said, his voice thick with emotion.
That nearly wrecked me. Instead, I cleared my throat and focused on setting up the projector while the kids raided the snacks with zero restraint.
Winnie moved beside me as I fiddled with cables. “You pulled it off. Everything’s perfect.”
“Wepulled it off,” I corrected.
Winnie nudged my shoulder slightly. “You know what I mean.”
I shrugged a little. “I wanted today to feel…” I hesitated.
“Alive,” Winnie finished gently.
“Yeah.”
As the kids argued about gummy worms, Winnie and I stood under the lantern light, our eyes locked on each other.
The evening settled around us softly with crickets, fireflies, and the scent of flowers from the nearby garden beds. It was so peaceful. Exactly what we needed.
“CJ’s eating snacks too fast!” Billie shrieked.
And the moment shattered beautifully.
We settled onto blankets as the night darkened overhead. The first home video flickered onto the projector screen. Jade, laughing as she and the kids decorated Christmas cookies years earlier.
Bianca inhaled sharply.
Onscreen, Jade held toddler Billie under one arm while arguing with CJ about frosting distribution.
“I saw you take extra sprinkles,” Jade accused.
“Prove it,” tiny CJ yelled back.
Winnie let out a soft laugh beside me.
The videos rolled on—birthday parties, beach trips, dance recitals, even one of Jade gardening with dirt smeared on her forehead.
“She killed those hydrangeas in under a month,” I said.
“She probably overwatered them,” CJ replied automatically.
“She loved them too hard,” Bianca corrected.
Billie pointed dramatically at the screen. “Mom fell in mud.”
The laughter came easier as the night deepened. At some point, music replaced the videos. One of Jade’s old playlists drifted softly through the backyard while the kids slowly wilted from exhaustion.
CJ lay on his stomach, writing in his notebook between handfuls of popcorn.
Bianca leaned against one of the pavilion posts, pretending she wasn’t falling asleep every thirty seconds.
Billie had somehow accumulated four blankets and half a lemon bar.
