Chapter 22 - The Portrait Over My Fireplace
One year after Christmas Eve, Ella asked:
“Can we take a family picture?”
I froze.
“Why?”
“For Christmas cards.”
“You hate Christmas cards.”
“I’m ten now.”
Apparently ten changed everything.
“Who’s in it?”
“Me. You.”
“Anyone else?”
She thought.
“Maybe Paige.”
“That’s not usually how family card…”
“Why?”
No good answer.
We invited Paige.
Then Kenzie asked.
Then Haley and Ethan.
Suddenly cousin photo.
Eric came.
Nicole too, because her kids were minors and she drove.
Dad asked whether he could stand in.
Ella said:
“Yes.”
Mom?
Ella paused.
“Not this one.”
I respected.
We took photo at park.
No studio manipulation.
Phone tripod.
Everyone laughing because Ethan blinked every time.
No formal positions.
No giant frame.
I printed one 8x10.
Ella chose where it went.
Bookshelf.
Not fireplace.
Above fireplace in our townhouse was a framed NASA image of the Pillars of Creation.
Ella chose that too.
When Mom eventually saw cousin photo through Dad, she said nothing publicly.
She wrote me:
I understand why I am not in it.
That was growth.
Months later, Ella chose one supervised lunch with Grandma.
No pressure.
Mom arrived early.
No presents.
When Ella walked in, Diane stood.
Then stopped.
“Can I hug you?”
Ella said:
“Not yet.”
Mom sat.
“Okay.”
They talked about books.
Mom had finally read The Westing Game.
She hated ending.
Ella argued with her for twenty minutes.
That was perhaps healthiest interaction they had ever had.
No property.
No ranking.
No glitter.
At end, Ella allowed a side hug.
Not full.
Her choice.
I cried in car afterward.
Ella rolled eyes.
May you like
“You’re dramatic.”
“Inherited.”
