“I put it away,” his mother said. “I have a lot of things I’ve kept for you. And this is the blanket you were wrapped in when we brought you home from the hospital that day. The snow was falling outside. And your dad and I almost floated home because we were so happy.”

David looked at her, then at his dad, then back to her. “Wait. This is about me?”

His dad touched his arm. “David, there was a young girl who was going to have a baby and she knew she couldn’t take care of him. She heard about how we had lost your brothers, Michael and John. And she chose us to be your mom and dad.”

“And we love you like our very own,” his mother said, wiping something from her eyes.

“Whoa,” David said. He held the baby blanket up and rubbed his nose with it.

“That’s what you used to do in your crib,” his mother said. “You would hold this in your hand and rub your nose with it. You were such a cute baby.”

His mother hugged him and then his father did the same and kissed the top of his head.

“We love you, David.”

“Like your very own,” David said, turning and pulling the covers to his chin. When his dad turned out the light, he saw stars on the ceiling and fell asleep.

CHAPTER 14

On Courtney’s second birthday, Melissa took her to a park and let her run and play on the slides and pushed her on the swings. Courtney always asked to be pushed higher. The rusty chain link squeaked with the back-and-forth of the swing and that sound felt familiar to Melissa. Her life was filled with rusty squeaks no amount of WD-40 could quiet.

When Courtney got tired, Melissa could always tell by the way she whined. She put her in the car seat and drove to her daughter’s favorite restaurant, a place that served breakfast all day and piled stacks of pancakes in front of Courtney and topped them with a whipped cream face, along with chocolate chips. Melissa knew one of the servers and they let her light two candles and three servers sang “Happy Birthday” at their table.

“Make a wish, sweetie,” Melissa said.

She took a picture of Courtney with her hands together, a huge smile on her face, as she blew out the candles.

What did she wish? Melissa wondered. What does she want most in life? Does she even have the ability to want anything?

Melissa only ordered a cup of coffee. Her stomach swirled as she cut Courtney’s pancakes. When the stack was cut into bite-size pieces, her daughter’s chin puckered.

“What’s wrong, my spider monkey?”

“It’s not a face anymore.” She said it in a tired whine, then the tears started and she tried to wipe them away.