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She grins, and I see she’s messing with me. I’m not used to her kind of teasing.
“Shut up,” I say.
She double points at me. “Gotcha.”
I look back at the package. “So, what, I just . . . open it?”
Her eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
“I mean, you’re just going to, what, stand there and watch me open it?”
“Oh my gosh, you’re being really high maintenance about this. Just open it.” She laughs. “Here, I’ll rip the first piece of tape off to get you started.” She reaches over and flicks her finger under a piece of the tape, creating a gap in the brown paper.
I give her one last look, then pull the rest of it off to reveal the back of what I think is a picture frame. As I flip it over, Eloise pulls the paper out from underneath, balling it up and tossing it aside.
The frame is large, about the size of a poster, and when I get it turned over, I come face to face with an image of me and Scarlett. I’m holding her up, her forehead pressed into mine.
It’s from the photoshoot the other day, a genuine moment between me and Scarlett. I don’t know how Kim caught this—weren’t we just goofing around?
This looks like something that should be hung in a museum. Or on a billboard somewhere.
But it’s not the technicality of the photo that causes a lump in my throat. It’s our eyes. The pure love in my eyes as I look at my daughter. And the pure love in hers as she looks back.
I stare at the frozen image for a long time, unsure how to properly thank Eloise for doing this. Unsure how to act in the face of this emotion.
“Do you like it?” she asks, cheerfully.
I look at her, right into her eyes, unable to say anything that would come close to the effect this picture is having on me.
She fake gasps. “You do like it.”
I choke back a laugh, praying she doesn’t catch that I’m fighting my eyes from spilling tears.
I don’t cry. Ever.
She puts her hand to her forehead, like a fainting damsel. “AND an almost-laugh? Be still my beating heart.”
“You were right,” I say, bringing my gaze back to hers. “You are good at giving gifts.”
At that, her face brightens and she nods. “I told you.”
I look back at the framed photo. I shake my head slightly, at a loss for words. All I can think to say is, “Thank you.”
She steps around the counter to where I’m standing and looks at the image in my hands. “I saw it pop up on the screen when Kim took it, and I knew it would be the perfect start to your photo collection.”
I lay the frame down on the counter. “My what?”
She faces me. “Gray, this place will never feel like home when it’s full of someone else’s things. Or things that someone else bought, no matter how good their taste is.” She smiles. “Originally, I thought you could hang this in Scarlett’s room, but I think it’d be better in the living room. I’m working on more so you can be reminded of all the good things in your life every time you walk in the door.”
This whole exchange tugs at a loose thread inside me. If she keeps messing with it, I’m going to completely unravel.
It’s like I’ve been withholding parts of myself and those are the only parts Eloise is interested in seeing.
I pick up my bottle of water and take another drink, a distraction to get something in my hands so I don’t fill them with her. “So, what’s the part I’m not going to like?”
She grimaces and avoids my question. She walks to my fridge, opens the door, and pulls a bottle of Dr Pepper from somewhere in the back.
“Did you hide a bunch of those in there?”
