I didn’t stop her.
I didn’t comfort her.
I let her cry.
At 6:15, the shuttle left.
Rhonda and Kayla had loaded everything. Four enormous suitcases. Two coolers. The folding crib. The beach chairs. The boxes.
Ben carried Jonah out. Asleep again on his shoulder.
Poppy walked out holding Deputy Hale’s hand. She’d asked if she could. He’d said yes.
At the door of the shuttle, she turned around.
“Aunt Morgan,” she said. “Is there really a chocolate fountain?”
“There really is,” I said.
“Can you come?”
I looked at her. Eight years old. Fox pajamas. Stuffed rabbit.
The only person in my family who’d asked me anything all night.
“Not today, Poppy,” I said. “But maybe tomorrow. If your mom says it’s okay.”
Poppy turned to Melissa.
“Mom,” she said. “Can Aunt Morgan come tomorrow?”
Melissa looked at me.
She looked at me for a long time.
