she saw me crying.
Noah put his arm around me.
“Don’t make it a moment.”
He whispered.
“I know.”
“She’ll notice.”
“I know.”
So I wiped my face.
And let our daughter have an ordinary afternoon.
That should have been the story of the vacation.
Then we came home.
Three days later, I invited everyone to dinner.
Gwen arrived forty minutes late.
Maya came downstairs wearing a sleeveless yellow dress.
She had bought it in Florida.
Before the trip, she would have worn a cardigan over it.
That night, she did not.
We sat down.
Liam had his camera beside his plate because he wanted to show Noah a
photograph of a pelican.
Halfway through dinner, Gwen slammed her phone onto the table.
“I can’t post a single vacation picture.”
Nobody answered.
She enlarged a photograph.
Maya was smiling near the water.
“Look at that.”
Gwen said.
She pointed at
