Page 150 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Of course,” her mother replied.

“I love that she is so … I don’t know, I just think she’s great. She’s so fun and kind. She does really fun stuff with us and loves us so much. She gives really great hugs too.”

The back of Justine’s eyes burned.

“My favorite thing about my daughter is that she isn’t afraid to take risks,” her mother said softly. “She used to be. Risks and choices used to be hard for her. And it hurt my heart to see her struggle. But now, she’s taking all kinds of risks and they’re paying off wonderfully.”

“I have a hard time making choices too,” Emme said. “And Justine is helping me. She bought twenty-two bottles of kombucha this summer just so I could try all the kinds. Because I didn’t want to risk trying a kind I hadn’t before and not liking it. That’s my favorite thing about her. How much she cares about others.”

Justine’s throat grew impossibly tight.

“I was really worried about her when she told us she was giving up surgery and moving to the island,” her mother went on. “That’s not something I ever could have done. But I see how happy and full of love her life is here, and I think it was such a wonderful and rewarding risk. And one she definitely needed to make. She has a beautiful family now.”

“Are you our grandma?” Aya asked.

Justine held her breath.

“Would you like me to be?” her mother asked with the gentlest, kindest, warmest voice.

“We only have one grandma and we don’t really see her much. We call her ‘abuela.’ It’s hard for her because our mom was her only child and seeing us reminds her of losing her daughter. That’s what Dad says anyway,” Aya said softly. “And our other grandma died from Parker Stinson’s Disease.”

Justine smiled and cupped her mouth to keep her laugh-cry quiet.

“What is ‘grandma’ in mandarin?” Emme asked. “That’s what you speak, right?”

“It is. And grandma is ‘wài zumu.’”

Both girls tried saying it the way Justine’s mother said it.

“Like that?” Emme asked.

“Very good, dear.”

Aya said it a few more times. She didn’t have the tone quite right, but she was close.

“Do you want us to call you that?” Aya asked. “We don’t call Justine “mom,” but I kind of want to. If she wants me to. I haven’t asked yet.”

With one hand over her heart and one over her mouth, tears tumbled down Justine’s cheeks. She could not have asked, or even fathomed, such a Christmas present.

“I would be honored to have you call me ‘wài zumu.’”

“What about Mr. Dr. Brazeau?” Aya asked. “What is ‘grandfather’ in mandarin?”

“Well Guy is actually French. So you could call him ‘grand-père,’ or ‘papère’ for short. And I could tell you right now, he would absolutely love it for you to call him that. He wants to be a papère so very much.” Justine’s mother giggled. “Justine couldn’t pronounce ‘papère’ when she was little so she called Guy’s father ‘bear.’ It was really cute.”

Emme and Aya giggled, too.

“Bear,” Aya said, still laughing. “She’s so silly.”

“She was a very silly child. Very happy and full of energy, questions, and ideas.”

“Like me,” Aya said. “Dad says I’m savage though, too. Like a feral wolf pup.” She let out a howl, which prompted more giggling from Justine’s mother. “I need to pee,” Aya said, leaping off the bed. She came around the corner and spotted Justine. “Oh. Hi, Justine.”

Justine froze.

She was spotted now. There was no sense hiding. She came around the corner into the bedroom, instantly getting a lifted eyebrow from her mother. Emme sat on one side of Justine’s mother, holding her hand.

What was going on? Was this the twilight zone?

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