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And all at once, I understood my father’s grief.
Because I didn’t know how I’d survive if I lost Hope.
Later, while the rest of the house napped, I flipped through the photos in my camera.
What escaped my notice all along, became abundantly clear.
In every single picture, my grandparents looked at me, through the lens of my camera, the exact same way they looked at Sia.
And I didn’t need to do a damn thing to deserve it.
Maybe real love was like that.
You couldn’t earn it.
Couldn’t ever be worthy of it. Not entirely.
It was the one truly holy thing left to us.
And while we couldn’t earn it, we could give it.
I could do that.
No doubt clumsily.
But I could do that.
I lay back on my bed and slept. Waiting to Facetime Hope. Knowing she’d be waiting for me once she put Brayleigh to bed.
The sounds of cooking drifted up the stairs. Sia stirred in her crib. And I brought her down.
Yiayia looked at the face of the watch she wore strapped to her wrist and shooed me away. She knew my routine. Didn’t want me to miss a call with my girl.
Hope’s beautiful face popped up on the screen. “Hey, hot stuff,” she murmured with a smile. “It’s good to see your face.”
“It’s good to see yours. Although I’d like you to show me something else.”
She laughed. “Voyeur.”
I teased her back, watched her eyes light up. “Exhibitionist.”
She smiled, slipped the wide neck of her sweater over her shoulder.
My eyes sharpened, and she laughed.
“You remember what happens to little girls who tease?”
“What?” she sassed; one eyebrow raised. “You going to withhold my orgasm again?”
“There are other ways to punish you,” I grunted. “Did you forget about the bench in the basement?”
“No,” she purred. “And that’s not exactly a deterrent.”
I smiled at the thought of tying her down. “Will you let me take pictures of you like that?”
Her eyes bugged out. “Naked?”
“Maybe not naked,” I mused, setting up the shot in my head. “You could wear that pretty negligee you wore for me the first night. The one I have on my phone.”
