Julianne and Sam’s eyes lit up when they saw me, and they both came over to give me a hug. We sat down to eat, and Weston and I chatted about our day. The adults asked us more specific questions about our assignments, and how we felt about certain school policies, which brought us to Weston’s art project. It could have been small talk, but Sam and Julianne seemed genuinely interested and hung on to my every word.

“I would love to see it sometime,” Julianne said.

“It’s up in my room.”

“The one you had framed?” Veronica said, a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Weston said.

“But you’d been working on that for months, hadn’t you?” his mother asked.

Weston looked over at me. “Yes.”

Recognition lit Veronica’s eyes, and she stifled a grin. She seemed to want to ask more, but didn’t. We were all stuck in this strange situation. Weston’s ex-girlfriend was Sam and Julianne’s faux-daughter, who also happened to be recently deceased. It was hard to know what appropriate conversation was.

“This is . . . uncomfortable,” I said.

Sam’s eyebrows pulled in. “It’s okay. This is such a rare circumstance, Erin. There’s just no room for judgment. We’re just happy that you’re happy. That’s all that matters to us.”

By the time we finished the chocolate cheesecake, Julianne seemed nervous. During a lull in conversation, Sam took Julianne’s hand, and her eyes glossed over.

“Erin,” Sam said. “Julianne and I have been talking quite a bit this week, and although we know everything has happened very fast for all of us, we want to ask you if you would come and live in our home . . . until you go to college, or until you want to live on your own. We just feel we have a lot of catching up to do, and we’d love it if we could do it as a family.”

My eyes danced between the both of them. They watched me with desperate hope in their eyes.

“You’ll have your own room,” Julianne said. “We’ve already gotten you a new bed, dresser, and linens. But we thought you might want to make it yours by choosing your own comforter and things, so I left a few catalogs on the bed,” Julianne said. She held up her hand. “Not that I’m assuming you’ll come to live with us. I just . . . didn’t want you to think we’d offer you Alder’s room. You’ll have your own room, your own clothes, and your own things.”

Sam leaned forward a bit and pushed up his glasses. “You don’t have to make a decision tonight. We just want you to know the offer is there. And we’re not doing anything at all this weekend, just in case you want to, you know, move in. But again, no pressure.”

“It’s okay. I think it’d be good,” I said.

“You do?” Julianne said, in shock.

I nodded.

Julianne clapped excitedly and they both stood, rushing around the table to hug me. Veronica and Peter congratulated us, and happy embraces were given all around, except for Weston.