Chapter 10
The house was quiet at five in the morning.
Emily was the first one up, just like she was every morning. She padded into the kitchen in her slippers and bathrobe, turned on the coffee maker, and looked out the window.
The sun was just starting to paint the sky pink and orange over the McDowell Mountains. The bougainvillea was in full bloom, cascading over the fence like a waterfall of purple flowers. The grass was still wet with dew. The oak tree in the front yard stood tall and strong, just like it had for the last thirty years.
Thirty years.
It had been thirty years exactly since Walter Carter had walked through that front door and changed everything.
Thirty years since she had said those words that had drained the color from his face.
Thirty years of life.
Good life.
The coffee maker beeped.
Emily poured herself a cup. Black. Just how she liked it.
She walked through the house. Running her hand along the bannister George had installed. Past the nursery—now a guest room with a crib set up for whenever Helen Patricia came to visit. Past the room that had almost become storage for Jason’s tools. Past the downstairs bedroom Walter had wanted for his sister Susan.
Every room told a story.
Every scratch on the floor. Every mark on the wall. Every nail hole in the drywall.
They were scars.
But they were beautiful scars.
Because they proved the house had been lived in. Loved. Fought for.
Emily opened the front door.
The morning air was cool and smelled like creosote and jasmine. She stepped out onto the porch, coffee in hand, and sat down on the swing.
The old swing.
The one Daniel had hung the first summer they were married.
She rocked gently back and forth.
And she thought about all the people who had been part of this story.
May you like
George and Helen. In their nineties now. Still together. Still holding hands. Still the center of this family. They had slowed down. George couldn’t fix cars anymore. Helen couldn’t stand at the stove for hours baking. But they were here. They were happy. They had gotten to see their grandson become a doctor. Their great-granddaughter born. Everything they had worked for had come true.
Maya. Still going strong. Retired from the big law firm. Now she taught family law at ASU and spent her free time doing pro bono work for women who couldn’t afford lawyers
