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Tess shot a sour glance at me. “You mean because she’s frowning?”
“Look at her. She’s definitely got your frown.”
Erin leaned across Tess for a peek at the baby picture in question. “I kind of do, don’t I?”
“Maybe,” Tess said, staring at the photo with a frown almost identical to toddler Erin’s. “I still think she mostly looks like you.”
“That’s what I thought at first,” Erin said. “But the more I look at photos from your side of the family, the more I see resemblances.”
My chest tightened at Erin’s use of the wordfamily. Tess’s eyes met mine, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. That Erin had just casually spoken as if the three of us were part of the same family. Maybe it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it felt like one. It felt huge.
I started to reach for Tess’s hand, but she pulled it away as Erin plopped a photo album on her lap and tapped one of the photos.
“Look at this baby picture of your father, and then look at that picture of me,” Erin said. “Don’t you think we look alike?”
Tess peered at the two photos. “I suppose you do, a little. Around the eyes.”
“And the shape of the face,” Erin added excitedly. “I look like my grandfather!”
I leaned in for a better view. When my shoulder bumped Tess’s, she leaned back to give me more space.
“Erin’s right. She’s definitely got some of your dad in her.” I glanced up at Tess, comparing her face to the photo of her father. “You look a lot like your dad. I’ve never noticed how much.”
“Everyone always said that,” she mumbled, staring down at her lap.
“I’ve been wondering,” Erin said. “You know how you go visit your father every Sunday? Do you think I could come with you sometime and meet him?”
Tess seemed to flounder, partly from surprise and partly something else. “He’s not…he can’t really meet anyone.”
“He’s not allowed visitors?”
“No, he is. It’s just that he won’t understand who you are. He doesn’t even recognize me anymore.”
Erin touched Tess’s arm. A small, comforting gesture, offered so easily. I watched Tess’s eyes fixate on Erin’s hand and wondered if Erin knew how much importance a small touch like that held for both of us.
“That’s okay,” Erin said gently. “My grandmother had Alzheimer’s too, so I know what it’s like. And I’d really like to meet him in person at least once, even if he doesn’t respond to me. Unless you think it would be too upsetting for him?”
Tess covered Erin’s hand with hers. “No, I don’t think it will upset him. It’s more likely to be upsetting for you.”
“I can take it,” Erin said. “If you’re okay with it.”
“Of course I am.” Tess produced an admirable approximation of a smile. Only someone who knew her as well as I did would guess that it was forced. “When I go tomorrow, I’ll talk to his caregivers about it. You can come with me next weekend if they give the okay.”
My insides knotted at the brittleness of Tess’s expression. It was always like this when the subject of her parents came up. She didn’t talk about it much, but I knew her stepmom’s death was still a raw wound, and the situation with her father was an ongoing source of grief.
She’d been putting on such a good act until now that it hadn’t even occurred to me how difficult it must be for her, looking through all these old photo albums and answering Erin’s questions. Being confronted by photos of the mother who’d walked away from her, the father who’d slowly disappeared piece by piece, and the stepmother she’d lost last year.
Erin looked down at Tess’s photo album again and flipped the page to a photo of Tess and her father. In it, Tess looked to be three or four, her tiny hands wound around her father’s neck. They both wore huge smiles on their faces as if they’d been laughing. Erin’s fingers smoothed down a bubble under the clear plastic photo protector. “It seems like you two were really close.”
Tess swallowed and tipped her chin down. “We were. But we had a lot of happy years together before he got sick. He had a good, long life, so it’s…” She trailed off with a small shrug.
If we’d been alone I would have pulled Tess into my arms and held her until she smiled again. Instead, I settled for running my knuckles over the small of her back.
She pushed Erin’s baby album at me and picked up her wineglass as she stood up from the couch. “I’d better go finish putting dinner together if we want to eat anytime tonight.”
My mouth settled into a frown as I watched her walk away. She’d been doing that a lot tonight—moving away when I got too close. It seemed she wasn’t comfortable with PDA in front of Erin. At least I hoped that was all it was.
Erin gave me a questioning look, and I dredged up a smile for her.
