I stared at him.
Behind us, the back door opened.
Marissa’s voice floated across the yard.
“Mom?”
“I am already angry.”
All three of us froze.
She hadn’t seen us yet.
“Mari, stay inside!” I called.
“Why?”
Graham whispered, “That sounded suspicious.”
Marissa stepped onto the porch holding a cheesecake.
“What are you doing out there?”
Henry quickly grabbed the edge of the moving blanket.
“We’re out of time.”
“Mari, stay inside!”
He pulled.
The blanket slid to the grass.
Underneath was an old wooden vanity.
Cream paint.
Three little drawers.
A round mirror with a tiny chip near the top.
One scratch along the left corner where a nine-year-old Marissa had once caught it with a metal bracelet.
I knew that vanity.
The blanket slid to the grass.
I had bought it for my daughter when she was six.
She used to sit in front of it, singing into a hairbrush and covering herself in glitter she called makeup.
She’d make faces at herself until we both laughed.
I had bought it for my daughter when she was six.
And then, years later, she had carried the mirror into the garage and told Henry:
“I don’t want something in my room whose whole job is looking at me.”
I had thought we’d thrown it away.
What I didn’t know was that Henry had spent the last few weeks restoring it.
I had thought we’d thrown it away.
Even the chipped edge of the mirror had been carefully stabilized.
***
“Oh my God… how did you arrange all of this?”
Henry looked toward Graham.
“He helped.”
My head snapped around.
“The deal.”
Graham nodded. “Part of it.”
“Part?”
Before he could answer, Marissa’s footsteps sounded behind us.
“Oh my God… how did you arrange all of this?”
She had finally reached the yard.
Then she saw Henry.
“Henry?”
He turned.
Her eyes shifted toward the vanity.
The cheesecake tilted dangerously in her hands.
Marissa walked closer.
“No.”
Henry didn’t move.
She set the cake down on the patio table.
Then she saw Henry.
Then she reached for the small top drawer.
Her fingers rested on the old brass handle.
I looked from Graham to Henry.
“You still haven’t told me what the deal was.”
Henry glanced at our daughter.
Then back at me.
