“Yes.” I nodded, thinking back. “His name was Peter. He and his wife, Sandy, were an older couple. I stayed with them for six months. I was around twelve years old and more jaded than any twelve-year-old should’ve been. But Peter taught me how to play basketball. He spent every night of those six months at the basketball court with me, helping me nail my dunking skills. He’d then take me out for ice cream each week and talk to me about life and stuff.”
“What’s one of the best things he’d ever told you?”
My brows knitted. “That I was good enough.”
“Did you believe him then?”
“No.”
“Do you believe him now?”
I smiled but didn’t reply, which seemed like a good enough response for her.
Stella’s hands landed against my face, and she pulled me closer to her, laying her lips against mine. Her forehead rested against mine. “More than enough, Damian.”
I sighed softly, feeling a wave of emotion push through my system. “More than enough?”
“More than,” she repeated.
My eyes closed as I held her close. “I’m scared I’ll mess him or her up. I’m scared that I won’t be good enough for them, for you. I’m scared that my past will mess this up for us.”
“I don’t think that’s just you. I’m terrified, too. I think all parents are scared at first.”
“You’re going to be the best mom ever.”
She smiled. “I hope so. I came from the best one ever.”
Stella didn’t speak much about her own mother, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know all I could about everything that made Stella into the woman she was.
“Tell me more about her?” I asked.
And she did.
Her name was Sophie, and she died in a car crash. She’d raised Stella on her own with the help of her best friend—Kevin. They’d known each other since elementary school. Maple worked for Kevin’s family, and Stella and her mother grew up on the property where we live now. Stella was a home birth, and Kevin cut the cord for his best friend. They were always a platonic relationship, but Stella was almost certain they were soul mates.
She stopped her storytelling and looked at me. “I’m sorry. You hearing about Kevin must be hard…”
I shrugged. “I was angry with him for a long time but realizing he didn’t know I existed makes it kind of hard to hate him. Plus, without him, I wouldn’t have found you. So, you know…”
She smiled, and I loved it. “He was a good man. He would’ve been honored to be your father.”
“Do you think he would’ve loved me?”
Her hand landed against my cheek. “How could he not?”
“Can you tell me more about him, too?”
“What would you like to know?”
I swallowed hard, feeling my heartbeats pick up in speed. “Everything.”
He liked hiking and hated raspberries. He drank whiskey in his coffee in the morning and a shot of espresso in his whiskey at night. He smoked cigars up until he grew ill, then he’d chew on the end of them just out of habit without lighting them. He loved Stella—she didn’t tell me that, but I could tell. She talked about him with stars in her eyes, and a part of me ached, knowing I’d never have the opportunity to meet him. I listened to every story Stella shared with me, and we flipped through the book of photographs that Maple brought me when we first moved in together. I couldn’t bring myself to do it before, but having her beside me made it easier.
“You were an adorable kid,” I told Stella, staring at old photographs of her. “And you were your mother’s twin.” Her mother had that same vibrant smile that Stella held. You could see the light of her soul through the photographs.
“Oh, let me show you the collection Kevin did of my mom and me,” she said, standing. She hurried off into her room on her tiptoes—because Stella was a woman who moved on her tiptoes like a fairy. When she came back, she had an extra-large photo album. The front of the book read, UB
“Universal blessings,” I said, remembering Stella mentioning that before.
“Yeah. He always swore Mama and I were his biggest blessings.”
“Do you think he was in love with her? Maybe that’s why the ex-wives were so harsh toward you—because they knew?”
“I always wondered. Maybe I reminded them too much of my mother.”
“That makes sense.” I flipped through the book, blown away by Kevin’s photography skills. He was amazing at capturing the light in such a special way. Plus, the way Stella’s mother looked at her daughter…
I never knew love could live forever through photographs.
“I wish I had this,” I confessed. “Photographs of my mother. I know it’s stupid, but one of my greatest wishes was to know who she was. Now, knowing that it’s one of those three women…well…I’m not getting that happily ever after.”