Chapter 12
March arrived.
The children's eighth birthday was on the tenth.
The court date was on the fifteenth.
We decided to have a big birthday party.
To celebrate the children.
To remind ourselves what we were fighting for.
Eleanor insisted on planning it.
Even though she was tired, even though her heart was weak, she threw herself into every detail.
A dinosaur theme for the boys.
A princess theme for the girls.
A cake that was half green and half pink.
Games.
Presents.
All of their friends from school.
Marcus set up a bouncy house in the backyard.
My employees came with their families.
Neighbors stopped by.
It was chaotic and loud and perfect.
The children ran from one activity to another, their faces glowing with excitement.
Eleanor sat in a chair on the patio, watching them with a smile.
She looked frail.
Her hands shook when she held her cup of tea.
But her eyes were bright.
"Are you okay?" I asked, sitting beside her.
"Never better," she said, watching Noah chase Ethan around the yard. "This is what it's all about, isn't it? These moments. These children. Everything else is just noise."
I looked out at the party.
At my four beautiful children.
At the people who loved us.
At the life I'd built.
She was right.
Everything else was just noise.
Daniel was noise.
The court case was noise.
The stress and the fear and the anger were all just noise.
What mattered was right here.
Right now.
Later, after all the guests had left, the children opened their presents.
Eleanor gave each of them a special gift.
For Noah, a watch that had belonged to his great-grandfather.
For Ethan, a collection of dinosaur fossils that she'd collected as a girl.
For Sophia, a porcelain doll that had been hers when she was little.
For Olivia, a journal with a leather cover, just like the one Eleanor had kept all her life.
"These are for you," she said, her voice trembling. "To remind you that you come from somewhere. That you have a history. A family. And that I love you more than words can say."
The children hugged her tight.
I could see it in their eyes.
They knew.
They knew their time with her was limited.
Children understand more than we give them credit for.
That night, after the children were asleep, Eleanor and I sat in the living room.
The remains of the party were still scattered around the house.
Wrapping paper.
Balloons.
Empty plates.
Neither of us had the energy to clean up.
"The court date is in five days," Eleanor said quietly.
"I know."
"I've been thinking... what if I don't make it to the fifth? What if my heart gives out before then?"
"Don't talk like that."
"I need to be realistic, Kesha. My time is short. And I need to know that if something happens to me before the hearing, you'll be okay. That the children will be okay."
"We'll be okay. We have Sarah. We have Dr. Patel's report. We have everything we need."
She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope.
"I recorded something. For the court. A video statement. In case I can't be there to testify in person. Sarah has it. She'll know what to do with it."
I took the envelope, my hands trembling.
"Eleanor..."
"I need you to promise me something," she said, her eyes fierce. "No matter what happens in court. No matter what Daniel does. You'll keep those children safe. You'll keep them happy. You'll tell them about me. That I loved them. That they were the best thing that ever happened to me."
Tears streamed down my face.
"I promise."
She pulled me into a hug.
"You're a good mother, Kesha. A good woman. I'm proud to call you family."
We held each other for a long time.
Two women who'd been hurt by the same man.
Who'd found family in each other.
Who loved the same four children with everything they had.
Outside, the wind picked up.
March in Austin could be unpredictable.
But inside, we were warm.
May you like
We were together.
And whatever happened in court, we would face it as a family.
