Page 173 of Triple Pucked
Shay carefully laid the Guide next to a small arctic blue photo album that matched it.
His ears were tipped red. “Dee did most of the work. He’s the talented one who took the photos.”
Eden narrowed his eyes at him. “This was Shay’s idea.”
“I’m sorry that it’s not… We haven’t done this before and weren’t sure…” Shay looked frustrated with himself.
I flicked open the photo album.
“Oh.” my smile widened. “This is perfect.”
D’Angelo peered over my shoulder, before his smile became as wide as my own.
I didn’t even know when Eden took the photograph, but it was of Freedom Mansion, when we were all in the lounge together. We were deep in conversation, laughing and relaxed.
We looked like a real family.
My eyes burned with tears, as I flipped through the album.
Some of the pictures were official ones that Eden had taken as the Bay Rebels official photographer. Others were casual ones that he’d snapped over the last five months. Eden was occasionally caught in them, when Shay must have snatched the camera from him.
Somehow, I loved Shay’s manic selfies with Eden looking mildly confused in the background the best.
Dad stopped taking photos after Mom’s death. I’d forgotten how Cody and I missed out on something as simple as family photographs.
How much having them now suddenly makes me feel less neglected and like I matter.
D’Angelo couldn’t have had anyone but the press take his photo after he was abandoned by his family when he was seventeen.
He looked as close to crying as I was.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I love it.” D’Angelo traced over a photo of the two brothers baking together in the kitchen, while being covered in flour. “I will enjoy filling it with plenty more photos.”
Then Shay opened the Guide as well and resolutely wrote out another entry:
Love is…
And we each added our Valentine’s entry.
I wrote:
Love is being seen.
Shay wrote:
Love is feeling alive.
Eden wrote:
Love is safety.
D’Angelo wrote:
Love is acceptance.
It’s why we’re not wearing masks tonight.
