It was something in between that Marcus has seen before, a look that lived at the intersection of love and loss, where the person wearing it wasn't entirely sure which one was driving. "It's only been 3 years," Sandra said. "I know. Renee was my daughter. I know, Sandra.
I know that three years isn't. She stopped, pressed her lips together. I just want to make sure Maya is okay. That she's not being that she's not being put in a confusing situation. Marcus was quiet for a moment.
He chose his next words the way he chose everything carefully, but without softening them into something untrue. Maya met Olivia once. He said it was a school event and my regular child care wasn't available. It was not a formal introduction. It was not a statement.
It was a Saturday morning at a science fair. He paused. Maya is fine. Maya is better than fine. She's one of the most grounded kids I know.
And if you talk to her, you would know that. I would like to talk to her. Sandra said, "You're always welcome to talk to her. That has never changed." Sandra looked at her hands. I'm not trying to cause problems, Marcus.
I know you're not. I just Her voice shifted slightly. Not breaking, but bending. She looks like Renee. Every time I see her, she looks more like Renee.
And I just need to know that she's not going to be confused about who her mother was or who her mother is because Renee is still her mother regardless of Sandra. Marcus said it gently but clearly. Maya knows who her mother was. She will always know. I make sure of that every single day.
Rene's picture is in our home. We talk about her. Maya knows what her laugh sounded like and what she loved and what she would have thought about things. That doesn't go away because I'm a person who is allowed to keep living. Silence.
Sandra looked at him for a long moment. Then she looked away. I know, she said quietly. I know you're right. I just She stopped.
It's hard. It's still very hard. I know it is, Marcus said. It's hard for me, too. It never stops being hard.