Page 119 of Finders Keepers

“GOT IT!” Sophie’s voice echoes through the house. She comes running back, clutching something behind her back, her face flushed with excitement. Nugget circles around her feet, tail wagging.

“Close your eyes, Mommy!”

I obediently shut my eyes, fighting back a smile as I hear her shuffling closer. Something crinkles as she sets it in front of me.

“Okay, open!”

I open my eyes to find a large piece of construction paper covered in glitter, stickers, and what looks like an entire rainbow’s worth of crayon drawings. In the center, there’s a careful attempt at writing “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” in wobbly letters.

“See? That’s you,” She points to a tall stick figure with yellow hair. “And that’s me.” A smaller stick figure holds the bigger one’s hand. “And there’s Nugget!” A brown blob with four legs and a tail. “And that’s our new house, and Ms. Lucy, and look—” She points to another figure. “That’s Gavin!”

My throat tightens as I take in every detail. The flowers she’s drawn around the border. The love hearts scattered everywhere. The way she’s drawn all of us together, like a…

I swallow hard. “It’s beautiful, baby. I love it so much.” I pull her into my lap and hug her tight, pressing kisses all over her face until she giggles.

“I helped her with the letters,” Gavin says softly. “But everything else is all her.”

“Can we put it on the fridge?” She asks.

“Absolutely we can.” I carefully set the drawing aside, away from any potential breakfast spills. “This is the best present ever.”

“But you haven’t opened Gavin’s yet!” She bounces in my lap. “Can she open yours now?”

Gavin gets up from his chair and heads into the kitchen. He bends and reaches under the counter and pulls out a small wrapped package. “If you want to.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I protest, but he hands me the package anyway.

“I wanted to.”

The wrapping paper is simple, silver with tiny stars. I carefully peel it back to reveal a leather-bound book. When I open it, I realize it’s a journal, the pages thick and creamy.

I run my fingers over the soft leather cover. “This is… thank you.”

“I noticed you like to write,” Gavin says, his voice soft. “Thought maybe you’d want somewhere private to put your thoughts.”

My fingers trace the delicate binding. The leather is butter-soft, nothing like the cheap spiral notebooks I’ve been using.

I carefully open the front cover. There’s an inscription in neat handwriting:

‘Bailey -

Sometimes the quietest words speak the loudest.

-G’

“Do you like it?” Sophie asks, peering at the journal.

“I…” The words stick in my throat as I look up at Gavin. “Thank you. Really.”

He shrugs, but I catch the pleased look in his eyes. “Everyone needs their own space to think.”

“Even in their head?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

“Especially in their head.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand.

I have to blink back tears because even though I just woke up this has been the best birthday that I’ve had in years. The thoughtfulness of his gift catches me off guard, warming something deep inside that I didn’t realize had grown cold. No one’s given me something so personal, so perfectly suited to what I need, in longer than I can remember. Between Sophie’s excitement and Gavin’s quiet understanding, I feel seen in a way that makes my chest ache with gratitude.

I pick up my fork, but pause and watch Sophie pour an enormous amount of syrup onto her French toast.

---