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CHASE
Emily’s door is open when I make it to her room, photo album in hand. The TV is playing quietly across the room, but her eyes are closed. I walk around to the other side of the bed and nudge her awake as I settle in on top of the covers, hiding the album behind my back.
“Hey,” I say softly, reaching out to shake her gently. I feel a little guilty for waking her. The party took a lot out of her today. As much as I know she enjoyed having it to focus on, it almost seemed like she deflated once her task was complete.
She groans, blinking her eyes open. “Everyone okay?” she asks.
I smile. Of course her first thought is how everyone else is doing. “Yeah. They’re finishing up their game of Uno downstairs, and then they’re going to paint their nails. I heard talk of Drake even getting his painted.”
She croaks out a throaty laugh. “Why are you up here bothering me instead of down there getting your nails painted too?”
“I have something for you.” That must get her attention, because she finally starts adjusting herself to sit up.
“A present?” she asks in disbelief.
“I’m not sure why you sound so surprised, but yes.” I reach over and move one of her pillows so it’s resting against the headboard. “It’s a good one, too.”
After she’s situated, she looks at me expectantly. I grab the photo album from behind my back and place it on her lap, a wide smile on my face. It’s plain black leather with gold stitching around the edges. When Emily realizes what it is, she gasps and trails a finger over the small opening in the middle of the cover, which holds a picture of her and a newborn Willow. It was the first picture ever taken of the two of them. While I got all of the pictures from my phone printed out, Addison contacted my mom, Indira, and Drake for any pictures they had as well. Between all of us, we were nearly able to fill the two hundred slots.
I open the album for her, where the first two 4x6s are displayed.
“You did this?” she asks, turning to me with shining eyes.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I had some help, though.”
She hums quietly and looks at the photos of Willow that were taken at the hospital. “She was so tiny.”
I nod. “Ten years went by quick.”
“It really did,” she agrees as she turns the page. There are a couple photos from when we first moved into this house and of Willow being held by various family members. “Gosh, those first few months were so hard. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you.” She leans into me and I wrap an arm around her.
“If I could go back, I would have bought this place sooner so you didn’t have to be on your own in the beginning.”
“No, none of that. No coulda, woulda, shouldas.” She turns the next page and lets out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you included this one. I thought you hated it.”
I scoff. “I don’t hate it.” The photo in question is of Willow in an infant swing at the park, taken when she laughed for the first time while Drake pushed her. “But I’d been working for that laugh for weeks, and then Drake got it. I was annoyed. Anyway, he insisted it was included in the album.”
“Oh, let him have the first laugh.” Her hand lands on my arm and she gives it a gentle squeeze. “You got so much more.”
We turn back to the photo album, continuing to flip through the pages. We smile at memories we’d forgotten. Emily making homemade baby food for the first time, only for Willow to refuse any of it. Her first steps when she was ten months old. Her helping my mom cook in the kitchen as a toddler. Her first day of kindergarten.
After a few minutes, the tears start streaming down Emily’s face, but she keeps turning the pages, smiling through her emotions. About halfway through, she frowns. “I don’t even remember all of these pictures being taken.”
“I can be sneaky when I need to be.”
She takes a breath so deep that it rattles her chest. “I love it, Chase. I love that Willow will have this once I’m gone. Thank you.”
We continue looking over the pictures, laughing, crying, and reminiscing. When we get to the final page, she stares hard at the photo of the two of them sleeping in her bed. Her tears have slowed at this point, but I have a feeling that’s more due to her exhaustion.
“She’s such an amazing kid,” she croaks, laying her head back against my shoulder. “Take care of her for me.”
“You know I will.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You did good, Em.”
“No, we did good.”
