Chapter 20
Lily met the love of her life in law school.
His name was Liam.
He was Irish.
Tall.
Handsome.
Kind.
Funny.
He was studying to be a public defender.
He wanted to fight for people who couldn’t afford a lawyer.
People who’d been forgotten by the system.
We loved him immediately.
James only threatened him twice.
Which was a new record.
Lily brought him home for Christmas.
He fit right in.
He laughed at all our bad jokes.
He helped James fix the porch.
He listened to Grace talk about her books for hours.
He even cried when we told him about Daniel and Clara.
He was one of us.
He proposed to Lily on the beach where we’d renewed our vows.
She said yes.
Of course she said yes.
The wedding was perfect.
Small.
Warm.
Full of love.
Lily wore my wedding dress.
Altered a little, of course.
She looked beautiful.
Grace was the maid of honor.
She’d drawn the invitations.
She’d made the centerpieces.
She’d even painted a portrait of Lily and Liam as a wedding gift.
James walked Lily down the aisle.
He cried the whole way.
I cried too.
Everyone cried.
When the priest asked who gave this woman to be married, James said, “Her mother and I. With all our love. And with the blessing of her Aunt Clara and her brother Daniel, who are watching from heaven.”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.
Lily and Liam wrote their own vows.
Lily promised to love Liam.
To stand by him.
To fight with him and for him.
To build a family just like the one she’d grown up in.
Full of love.
Full of second chances.
Full of hope.
Liam promised to love her.
To protect her.
To always make her laugh.
To be the kind of man her father was.
“James,” he said, looking at my husband. “You set the bar very high. But I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to reach it.”
James cried harder.
After the wedding, we danced.
James danced with Lily.
I danced with Liam.
Grace danced with her boyfriend, a nice boy named Noah she’d met in New York.
We danced with each other.
We danced with all our friends and family.
It was the happiest day of our lives.
Well, almost.
Nine months later, Lily gave birth to our first grandchild.
A boy.
They named him Daniel James.
After our son.
After James.
When they put that tiny, perfect baby in my arms, I cried.
I looked at him.
At his tiny nose.
His tiny fingers.
His perfect little face.
And I felt it.
I felt Daniel there.
I felt Clara there.
Our family was whole again.
The circle was complete.
Little Danny was the most loved baby in the whole world.
James was the best grandfather.
He held him every chance he got.
He sang to him.
He read to him.
He built him a crib.
A treehouse for when he got older.
He spoiled him rotten.
And I let him.
He’d earned it.
Grace got engaged to Noah a year later.
Noah was a writer.
He wrote children’s books too.
They were going to write and illustrate books together.
They were perfect for each other.
Their wedding was even more beautiful than Lily’s.
If that was possible.
Grace wore a dress she’d designed herself.
Covered in hand-painted flowers.
She looked like a fairy princess.
Lily was the matron of honor.
Little Danny was the ring bearer.
He was one year old.
He wore a tiny tuxedo.
He chewed on the rings the whole time.
Everyone laughed.
It was perfect.
We danced again.
We cried again.
We loved again.
Life was good.
So, so good.
Two years later, Grace and Noah had a baby girl.
They named her Clara Emily.
After Clara.
After me.
She was perfect.
Beautiful.
Quiet.
Just like her mother.
And she had Clara’s eyes.
Bright blue.
Full of love.
When I held her for the first time, I knew.
Clara was there.
She was in that baby’s eyes.
Her smile.
Her laugh.
Our family was growing.
Our love was growing.
It was endless.
Boundless.
Perfect.
We had everything.
Everything we’d ever wanted.
Everything we’d ever fought for.
And we knew.
With absolute certainty.
That no matter what life threw at us, we’d be okay.
Because we had each other.
May you like
And love always wins.
Always.
