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“It’s for Nanny and Grandad,” Maya says. She scampers across the island, ignoring Nel’s sharp ‘Maya. Shoes!’ and kneels in front of Amber. There’s not a hint of shyness or hesitation in her actions, like she’s already firmly labelled Amber as someone she knows she can trust. That feeling of warmth has taken over me almost entirely. “For their birthday.”
“Anniversary,” Nel reminds her. “It’s their anniversary gift. Part of it anyway.”
I come up behind Amber and brace my hands against the island, bracketing her in as she flips through the book. It’s filled with photographs of our parents and us.
The first photo is a baby picture of my mother, dressed in a white gown. It’s in black and white, but you can plainly tell that she’s screeching her lungs out as my grandfather hands her to the priest to be christened. The next photo is the earliest one we could find of my father. He’s about Maya’s age, grinning cheekily up at the camera as he sits in a bucket filled with what we hope is mud.
The photos continue on, alternating between pictures of my mother and my father in various stages of their childhood, right up into adulthood when we finally get the first photo of them together.
“She was actually dating his neighbour when they met,” Nel tells Amber as she pauses over the slightly grainy photo of them sitting side by side on a lawn swing. She covers Maya’s ears for a second and then whispers conspiratorially, “Mom swears she ended things before she met Dad, but apparently it wasquitethe scandal back in the day.”
Amber snorts and continues flipping through the pages. There’s Mom and Dad on their wedding day, their honeymoon, moving into their first home, Mom pregnant with me, Dad cradling me in his arms, Mom pregnant with Nel, Dad holding the both of us, and hundreds more. It took us the better part of three months – with Nel doing most of the legwork – to pull all these photos together.
Amber stops on a photo of the four of us one Christmas. We’re all wearing matching cheesy sweaters, but that’s not what has her laughing.
“So you weren’t lying about the mohawk phase.”
“Believe me,” Nel cackles. “I wish I was.”
“Ha, ha,” I deadpan, reaching forward to flip to the next page myself. Several more embarrassing photos follow – the mohawk really outlived its welcome – before we get to Nel, pregnant with Maya, and all the holidays and quiet moments we’ve captured since.
“This is beautiful,” Amber says quietly as she gets to the last page. It’s a photo we took together a week before I left for London.
“Mom loves sentimental stuff like this,” I tell her.
Nel nods. “Last Christmas she burst into tears when she opened a snow-globe with Maya’s face in it.”
Amber laughs, but it doesn’t sound like her usual one. I lean over her shoulder, and my heart plummets into the pit of my stomach when I notice there’s a teary shine to her eyes. I give her side a gentle squeeze and feel a tiny bit of relief when she leans into my touch and sighs softly.
If Nel notices the sudden change in Amber’s disposition, she’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise.
“It’s their 35thwedding anniversary this weekend, so we knew we had to go all out. Well,Iknew we did. This one—” She shoots a dismissive nod in my direction. “Just wanted to get them a two-week cruise around the Caribbean.”
“That’s parttwoof the gift,” I explain. “Sentimental stuff for Mom. A fun trip and some new memories for them both.”
“It’s great,” Amber says, forcing an airy nonchalance into her tone. “Are you doing anything else to celebrate?”
Nel frowns. “The party? You’re coming, right?”
Amber stiffens in my arms and I feel a sheepish grin tug at my lips.
“He hasn’t told you, has he?” Nel shakes her head.
“Nope.”
“I didn’t mention my parents’ anniversary party?” I ask innocently. I’m avoiding eye contact but I can feel the heat of Amber’s glare on me. “My mistake.”
Nel shakes her head and then slides off her stool, yanking Maya off the island as she goes. “Come on, sweet pea. Uncle Finn’s got some apologising to do.” Maya starts to protest, but Nel scoops her into her arms and marches towards the door. “It was lovely meeting you Amber, and hopefully we’ll see you on Saturday.” She turns and gives me a mock salute. “Good luck, Finn.”
“Saturday?” Amber asks, brow arched. “As in, two days from now?”
“Oh yes,” Nel laughs before she gives us one final wave and disappears down the corridor.
Amber waits until she hears the front door open and shut before she swivels around on her stool and glares at me. She’s trying to look serious, but there’s a lovely blend of amusement and frustration painted across her face.
“Is this what you’ve been hiding?” she asks. “Your parents’ wedding anniversary?”
No.
