Page 107 of Home Is Where You Are

“That’s delicious. What challenge would that be?” he asked as he finished chewing.

“You told me to lean on you when I needed to. I know I can’t go to her nursery alone, even if it is empty. So, I thought we could go in there and face it together.” I stared at him to gauge his reaction. He might not be ready, and that was okay. I’d wait until he was.

“I’m glad you came to me and didn’t go in there alone. I haven’t been in there since it’s been cleared out, but as long as you’re sure you’re ready, we’ll face it together.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of mine.

We finished eating as Gentry told me about his day and how much the kids enjoyed the hayrides and feeding the animals. I loved how his eyes lit up as he mimicked each kid's reaction. My heart swelled at the thought of this thoughtful man being a dad. He’d be such a good one.

We cleared the table after we finished eating, leaving the dishes in the sink. Both of us let out a sigh at what we were about to do. He grabbed my hand and asked if I was sure I was ready. He always put my feelings first, another reason why I loved him.

With a nod, he led me through the kitchen and down the hallway to the bedroom with the closed door on the right. We both stood in front of the door, both unmoving.

He reached for the knob because no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t muster up the strength to make the first move. I shut my eyes, ready, but not quite ready to look inside.

I held Gentry’s hand tighter as he led us into the empty space.

Breathe in for four.

Hold for seven.

Exhale for eight.

I repeated the breathing exercise two more times before my heart calmed enough for me to be ready to face the room.

I opened my eyes and took in the beautiful color paint on the walls. A beautiful shade of green just like my mother had described. The color reminded me of hope. The room was completely bare, but I could still see the spot where her crib sat against the wall to my right, the rocking chair on the opposite wall with a bookshelf that was full of books that I’d never gotten a chance to read. The plain green wall used to have a beautiful mural of farm animals with a huge oak tree.

I looked at Gentry, and his eyes were full of tears as we both remained quiet, too caught up in our emotions to speak.

Without breaking the silence that loomed between us, I turned to Gentry, and he knew exactly what I needed. He pulled me into his arms where I fully broke down, sobbing into his chest. We both cried for what would never be and for the precious soul we’d never forget.

He pulled back, but remained quiet as he walked around me and went to the closet. I cocked my head to the side as I couldn’t imagine what he’d be searching for. My mother assured me everything had been cleared out of this room.

He pulled out something that was covered with a sheet, but didn’t pull it off to reveal the contents. By the shape of it, if I had to guess, it was a picture of some sort.

Gentry sat on the floor in front of me, then looked up at me with a pained expression.

“Can you sit with me, butterfly? I have a feeling you’ll need to be sitting down when you see what I’m about to show you,” he said, his voice quivered.

My legs shook as I sat on the floor as he requested. I had a feeling deep in my gut that whatever was hidden underneath that sheet would tear my heart in two.

“I had this commissioned a few months after you left. I never wanted to forget her and how beautiful she was, so I went to a local artist and explained what I hoped he could paint for me. I’ve never looked at it. When it was delivered, I had your parents bring it over here until I was ready. It didn’t feel right to look at it without you by my side,” he said as he looked down at the cotton-covered canvas.

“Let’s look at it together,” I told him as I moved to sit beside him, resting my head on his shoulder.

His hands shook as he moved the fabric to reveal the most beautiful painting I’d ever seen.

My breath hitched as I reached out and traced every beautiful detail of our daughter's sleeping face. We’d talked about doing a newborn photoshoot and placing her on a saddle, and this artist brought that vision to life. I wasn't sure how, but he’d even painted the oak tree behind her.

“This is amazing, Gentry. A beautiful tribute to our little girl,” I told him as the tears fell.

He placed the canvas on the floor in front of us and pulled me into his arms, sobbing. My heart broke for the both of us, but in that moment a part of me healed as we leaned on each other.

He pulled back, and we both wiped the tears from our faces. The wind picked up outside, and I heard the rain hit the windowpane. I didn’t even know we were expecting rain today.

“How about we go enjoy one of those rainy nights you said you love?” he suggested as he stood and held his hand out to help me up.

“That sounds perfect to me. But I get to choose the movie,” I said. I reached down and picked up the photo of our daughter. I knew the perfect place for it.

“Of course, you do, butterfly, but I’m vetoing your decision if you pick something sappy,” he joked as we walked into the living room.