Anticipation warmed her chest. She held a great gift in her hands. One she’d never expected. “Thank you.” The words burst from her. “I never thought I’d get to see pictures or hear stories.”
Her hand trembled as she opened the book. A beautiful, dark-haired girl—not quite a child, not quite a teenager—held a rainbow bouquet to her nose. Her face alight with pure joy. She looked like Gran. It was in the warm color of her eyes, in the tilt of her head, in the shape of her features. “This”—she pointed to the photo—“is my mom.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of awe.
“Yeah.” Xander breathed the answer in her ear and reached down to run a finger over the picture. “She loved picking wildflowers. She put vases of them all over the house during the spring and summer. She even put them in my room, but I was too much of a boy to appreciate them.”
“But she didn’t always care if they were wildflowers.” Row’s eyes were misty with memories. “She once picked every bloom in Gale’s zinnias patch and made bouquets with them before anyone could tell her not to.”
“Don’t forget about the roses.” Alex leaned in to see the picture. “Gale couldn’t keep a bloom on a rosebush. Shayla would wait until her mother wasn’t looking and then snip them all off and put them in a pretty vase, or make a bouquet, or just float them in a bowl of water.”
“No matter how many times we explained to leave some flowers on the vine, she just couldn’t do it. Said they should be enjoyed.” Row turned around and began rummaging in the large picnic basket behind her.
“We all thought she was going to grow up to be a florist.” Matt’s voice was soft and full of genuine affection. Something Isleen hadn’t witnessed before. He had cared for her mom. “She knew I wasn’t into the whole flower thing, so she’d make me a bouquet of dried willow branches or pinecones. They were pretty clever.” He leaned over to take in the photo. “It’s a little worse for the wear, but I still have the pinecone bouquet in my room.”
“I would love to see it.”
He sat back and seemed to pull his mantle of surliness back around himself. “Sometime.”
Isleen flipped the page, but the dusk had faded and it was more dark than light out. She held another picture up close to her face, willing herself to see the image.
An older version of her mom—maybe in her early teens. She lay on her stomach on the floor with a board game open, smiling at the cutest little boy—Xander.
His face hadn’t been scarred yet, his gorgeous hazel eyes untouched by life’s pain, and he wore a smile of pure angelic mischief.
“Aww… How old were you?” she asked, turning to hold the photo up for Xander to see.
“I don’t even know.”
“I got him that stupid game for his fifth birthday.” Matt’s tone was nostalgic. “Everyone hated that damned game and wouldn’t play it with him, except Shayla.”
“Five years old…” The light had dimmed so the image was no more than shadowy shapes, but Isleen couldn’t take her eyes off the picture.
A bright golden glow lit their small circle. She looked away from the photo to birthday candles burning atop a cake. A chocolate cake with a sweet mound of cherries in the center.
Her breath caught in her lungs.
“Happy Birthday to you.” Everyone sang together, their individual voices off-key and not quite in unison, but perfect. Beautifully perfect. Their smiling faces all lit with an orange glow. This—these people, her new family—was what her life was going to be about. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Isleen. Happy birthday to you.”
“Christ, that sounded awful.” Matt laughed.
Happy tears swelled and spilled. Isleen laughed and wiped them away.
“And many more,” Xander sang softly in her ear.
“How did you know? I totally forgot. I wasn’t even paying attention to the day.”
“Kent told me. And told me about your favorite cake.” Row held the cake in front of her. “I just happened to have Gale’s recipe. You blow out the candles so we can dig in to this while we watch the show.”
The show? She didn’t have time to ask. Her candles were burning. She closed her eyes to search for her wish. And found it. She sucked in a breath, opened her eyes, and blew out twenty-six candles. I wish happiness for all of us.
A pop in the sky startled her.
“The fireworks are starting.” Xander pointed overhead. “It’s Sundew’s celebration. We just happen to have the best view.” A flash of white burst in a perfect circle above them, tendrils of color fading as they fell. Another flash. Pink and green exploded across the sky.
Isleen turned in his arms, needing to do more than just feel him around her, needing to see him. The hard angles of his face were lit blue from the rockets exploding. His gaze on her was full of… Words were too small to describe the look of love he bestowed on her.