On a bright, breezy morning, Lewis drove to the coast alone, carrying Eleanor's urn. I didn't go with him for the final send-off. Eleanor and I hadn't exactly shared warm moments , the few times she had looked at me, she'd been quietly calculating how to remove me from the picture. I didn't belong at that goodbye. Amber was another story entirely. She had gotten up at three in the morning to make me breakfast without being asked. That kind of love you remember.
I watched from a distance along the shore. Amber was crying quietly, Dominic close beside her, one hand on her back. I stood with the stroller, letting the sea breeze wash over us while the babies reached their small hands toward the seagulls drifting overhead.
