Page 71 of Toxic Hope
There’s something really special about this morning. It feels like Christmas when we were kids, full of anticipation, overflowing with hope. All because somebody special is upstairs, and hopefully she’s still asleep in my bed.
I didn’t realize until now how flat and bland life was before she walked into it. When I think back on how I resented her, it’s like remembering something that happened to completely different people. I hardly even remember it.
Why would I bother when it’s so much better to walk into my bedroom with a tray full of food for the girl still sleeping in the middle of the bed? She must have figured out at some point thatshe’s alone, because her arms and legs are stretched out starfish-style. I almost hate to wake her up and spoil her good time.
She starts to wake up once I set the tray down. “Morning, sunshine,” Preston murmurs, as she rolls onto her back and blinks sleepily up at us.
“You made me breakfast?” She sounds so surprised, her voice soft and full of wonder.
“Of course. We weren’t sure what you would like, though,” I add, looking down at all the food.
“It’s so sweet of you.” She sits up wearing a happy grin, and I place the tray in her lap for her to dig in. It’s good to see her eating like this, not picking at her food or forcing herself.
“Have you seen Sarah yet this morning?” she asks while smearing cream cheese on her bagel.
“No, her door’s still closed, but I texted to ask how she’s feeling,” Preston tells her, taking a seat on her left while I sit on the right. “She said she’s doing all right. A little sore, but she will be for a few days, I think.”
“It just sucks because today’s her birthday,” I explain, making Emma’s eyes widen.
“Oh, it’s her birthday? I didn’t know that! I would’ve said something about it last night, wished her a good one or whatever.”
She sounds so genuinely sorry, it’s cute. She really cares. “You know, if you want to do something nice for her today, you should come shopping with us.”
I’m totally ad-libbing this, but Preston catches up with me easily, the way he usually does. “Yeah, we don’t have anything for her yet. We could probably use a girl’s input on what she would like.”
“I would love to go with you, though I don’t know how much help I could be. I don’t really know her,” she reminds us.
“She likes the kind of stuff girls like,” I explain, waving my hand. “Smelly stuff, makeup, skincare.”
“I’m sure we can find something,” Emma agrees with a twinkle in her eye. And now I have the rest of the day to look forward to, all because I know she’ll be part of it. Could it really be this easy? I know it’s the kind of thing I’m going to have to work at—making sure she’s happy, making sure she has what she needs.
But it’s worth it, because just being in the same room with her makes me feel lighter, brighter, happier. Like things make sense for the first time in as long as I can remember. Like I have a purpose, and that purpose is her.
Which means taking her shopping for herself and using Sarah as an excuse to get her out. The look I exchange with Preston tells me he’s on the same page. I want to give her everything she’s missed out on, including the freedom of walking into the mall and going on a shopping spree she could never afford otherwise. Whatever it takes, so long as I can see her eyes sparkle like they are now.
It’s something I think I could become addicted to.
“I thoughtthis was supposed to be about your sister.” Emma folds her arms, looking up at us after we come to a stop in front of the third store we’ve visited so far. “But all you want to talk about is what I like. And you’ve already bought me all of this.” She holds up a pair of shopping bags from the time we’ve already spent encouraging her to try things on.
Looking inside the big, brightly lit store, I shrug. “There’s makeup and girly stuff in here. We could find something for Sarah, no problem.”
“And maybe we’ll find something for you at the same time,” Preston suggests with a grin that makes her shake her head disapprovingly.
“I’m starting to think that’s what this is all about. Is it even your sister’s birthday?” she asks.
“Oh, definitely.” That much is absolutely true. “In fact, we’re all supposed to go to dinner tonight for her. We’ll have to find you something to wear for that.”
“Wait a minute. What?” When we go into the store, she has to follow us. “What are you talking about? Dinner?”
“Yeah, I left a note at home asking if we could add another person to our reservation for tonight.” I can’t help but laugh when I look over my shoulder and see her face go red. “It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, yeah. Fun. Dinner with your family when I’m completely unprepared.” She chews her lip and fiddles with her pearls, but I know it’s not going to make a difference. She’s coming with us.
“I really don’t understand any of this,” she confesses once Preston takes the shopping bags out of her hands, and I give her a plastic basket.
“It’s pretty simple. If we’re going out to dinner for Sarah’s birthday, we want you there with us.” Putting my hands on her shoulders, I turn her around so she’s facing the rows and rows of makeup and skincare, perfume, and all kinds of other things I can’t even identify. “So get whatever you want, as much of it as you want. Whatever you need to feel good tonight.”
“I really can’t believe this.” She looks up at me, her brow creased. “What’s the catch?”
