Chapter 12 - THE QUESTION ETHAN FINALLY ASKED ABOUT EMILY
One evening Ethan climbed into Ryan’s bed holding Emily’s photograph.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If I call somebody else Mom, does Mommy know?”
Ryan’s throat tightened.
“I don’t know what happens after people die.”
Ethan nodded.
Ryan continued.
“But I know loving somebody doesn’t erase somebody else.”
Ethan stared at the photograph.
“What if Mommy gets sad?”
“I don’t think your job is to make dead people less sad.”
Ethan looked startled.
Ryan smiled gently.
“Your job is to be seven.”
That made him laugh.
Then Ethan asked:
“Was Vanessa my mom?”
Ryan could have answered quickly.
Instead:
“What do you think?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
Ryan nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“She made pancakes.”
“Yep.”
“She came to soccer.”
“Yep.”
“She was mean when you weren’t there.”
Ryan swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Can somebody be both?”
The question was bigger than Ethan understood.
Ryan answered:
“Yes.”
Ethan looked relieved.
Children often wanted categories.
Good.
Bad.
Mom.
Not Mom.
But reality was messier.
Vanessa had cared for him.
Then resented him.
Comforted him.
Then humiliated him.
Those contradictions did not cancel each other.
They explained why healing would be confusing.
Ethan eventually placed Emily’s photograph back on his shelf.
Beside it was a school picture of himself and Ryan.
There was an empty space where a family photo with Vanessa used to stand.
May you like
Ryan did not fill it.
Not everything needed replacement immediately.
