Chapter 15
Moving Lily into her dorm was hard.
We carried boxes up three flights of stairs. Made her bed. Hung her posters. Put her seashells on the windowsill. Taped Mia’s letter to the wall above her desk.
Daniel cried the whole time. Tried to hide it. Failed.
When it was time to leave, Lily hugged us both. Tight.
“I’ll call every day,” she said. “I promise.”
“You better,” Daniel said. Wiped his eyes. “Or I’m driving down here every night with tacos.”
Lily laughed.
“Deal,” she said.
We walked out to the car. Sat there for a long time. Watching her dorm window.
“Our baby is grown up,” I said. Cried.
Daniel nodded. Held my hand.
“Yeah,” he said. “But she’s still ours. Always.”
He was right.
Lily did call every day. Sometimes twice. Told us about her classes. Her new friends. Her professors. The bad dorm food.
She joined the soccer team. Made the starting lineup as a freshman. Scored the winning goal in her first game. Called us screaming so loud we had to hold the phone away from our ears.
She started a support group on campus. For survivors of abuse. For kids who needed someone to talk to. It grew fast. 10 kids the first month. 50 the next. 100 by the end of the semester.
She volunteered at the children’s hospital in Austin. Every Saturday. The kids there called her the Rainbow Lady too.
She was thriving. Happy. Busy. Changing the world.
We visited her every other weekend. Brought her clean laundry. Her favorite cookies. Tacos. Took her out to dinner.
She never seemed to get tired of us. Always ran to the car when we pulled up. Hugged us like she hadn’t seen us in years.
Thanksgiving was at our house. Lily came home. Brought her new roommate, Lila, whose family lived in California and couldn’t make it.
We ate too much. Watched football. Played board games. Lily beat everyone at Monopoly. Cheated a little. We let her.
That night, we sat around the fire. Lily was between us. Just like old times.
“Remember when you were scared to sleep alone?” Daniel said. Teasing. Soft.
Lily laughed. Nodded.
“Remember when you threatened to beat up my 15-year-old boyfriend with a baseball bat?” she said.
Daniel laughed. Held up his hands.
“Hey,” he said. “A dad’s gotta do what a dad’s gotta do.”
We laughed.
It was good. So good.
Christmas was even better.
Lily came home for two weeks. Brought Noah. They’d been dating for three years now. He was going to UT too. Studying to be a teacher.
Daniel still glared at him. But less now. He even let him sit on the couch next to Lily. As long as he left three feet of space between them.
Lily rolled her eyes. But she smiled.
We opened presents. Lily gave me a necklace made of the seashells we’d collected at the beach. Gave Daniel a new hammer. Engraved. It said: #1 DAD. BUILDER OF SAFE HOUSES.
Daniel cried. Wore it on his belt every day after that.
New Year’s Eve, we had a party. All our family and friends.
At midnight, we counted down.
10… 9… 8…
Lily held Noah’s hand. Held mine. Held Daniel’s.
3… 2… 1…
Happy New Year!
We kissed. Hugged. Cheered.
Lily looked at us. Grinned.
May you like
“Another year down,” she said. “Forever to go.”
“Forever to go,” we said. Together.
