At one point, Mom rose and surprised everyone with a small speech. She talked about fear and the way it can make people small, and then about how being brave doesn’t mean being fearless but making a choice to keep loving anyway. She thanked Daniel for being patient and for teaching her how to accept help. Then she turned toward me and took my hand as if we were children again. “My girl,” she said. “You’ve always been brave. I am proud.” Even now the memory of it makes the place where the ribs meet ache.
Lily’s announcement to the gathered crowd about being pregnant caught us both—Mark and me—off guard in the most glorious way. She climbed up on a folding chair, waved the polaroid that had developed while we’d been eating, and showed a picture of a tiny line—simple and furious in its truth
