Chapter 4
Barbara’s smile vanished.
“Brandon.”
He ignored her.
“Brandon, don’t open that here.”
Now she looked nervous.
Really nervous.
I remembered Lisa making me promise not to inspect that bag.
For the first time, I wondered what she had packed inside.
Brandon looked at his mother.
“There’s something you need to see before you say another word.”
Then he opened the suitcase.
Inside were normal things.
Pajamas.
A stuffed rabbit.
Two shirts.
Socks.
Glittery sandals.
Brandon carefully moved them aside.
Underneath was a handmade picture frame.
Bright blue cardboard.
Gold glitter.
Cheap plastic jewels glued unevenly around the edges.
Inside was a photograph of Brandon and Lisa together at one of her soccer games.
Across the top, in crooked craft letters, she had written:
MY NEW DAD & ME.
I covered my mouth.
Lisa spoke quietly.
“It was supposed to be your wedding present.”
Brandon carefully lifted the frame.
“It’s perfect.”
Then he looked back into the suitcase.
“But where’s the drawing?”
Lisa froze.
“Dad Brandon, no.”
He had already picked up a folded sheet of construction paper.
Her reaction stopped him.
“What is it?”
Lisa looked down.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Gran-Barbara told me to throw it away.”
Brandon’s face changed.
“You showed it to her?”
Lisa started crying.
He looked toward his mother.
Then he unfolded the drawing.
There were four stick figures standing together holding hands.
Lisa had labeled each one with purple marker.
MOM.
DAD.
ME.
GRANDMA.
Except GRANDMA had been crossed out with two thick blue lines.
Beside it, written in unmistakably adult handwriting, was one word.
NO.
Brandon stared at the page.
Then he held it up.
“Did you do this?”
Barbara lifted her chin.
“Yes.”
The room went completely silent.
“I corrected it,” she said. “I’m not her grandmother, and I never will be.”
Brandon’s jaw tightened.
He looked back at Lisa.
“Is this why you asked me about the baby?”
My stomach dropped.
Three days earlier, Lisa had asked Brandon something strange.
She wanted to know whether he would still love her if we had a baby together someday.
Neither of us had understood where the question came from.
She refused to explain.
Now she nodded.
“Barbara told me that when you have real kids, those will be her grandchildren.”
Brandon went completely still.
“She said they’ll matter more because they’re really yours.”
He turned toward Barbara.
“You told her WHAT?”
Barbara folded her arms.
“She’s exaggerating.”
“She’s seven.”
“I told her the truth. You’ll have children of your own someday. Children who carry your blood. Those will be my grandchildren.”
She shrugged.
“There is a difference.”
Brandon looked at the drawing.
Then at the suitcases hanging from my wedding dress.
Then at his mother.
“You humiliated my fiancée and a seven-year-old child in front of everyone we know.”
“I was trying to stop you from making a decision without understanding the consequences.”
“What consequences?”
Barbara pointed toward Lisa.
“This.”
Lisa flinched.
Something in Brandon’s expression changed.
That was the moment I knew the conversation was no longer about my wedding dress.
He handed me the frame and the drawing.
Then he knelt in front of Lisa.
“Do you remember what you asked me when I proposed to your mom?”
Lisa wiped her nose.
“I asked if I got a dad too.”
“And what did I tell you?”
She sniffed.
“If you’ll have me.”
Brandon smiled.
“Exactly.”
He wiped a tear from her cheek.
“And nothing about my answer has changed.”
Lisa threw both arms around his neck.
He lifted her.
Then he turned toward Barbara.
“Lisa is my daughter.”
Barbara shook her head.
“Brandon—”
“She is my daughter.”
His voice was louder now.
“In every way that matters.”
Barbara opened her mouth.
May you like
He didn’t let her speak.
“And if Emily and I have more children someday, Lisa does not become less my daughter just because another child shares my DNA.”
