Tommy was bouncing up and down with excitement as we left the house, but both Sarah and Sean were quiet. I looked from one to the other, wondering if Sarah saw more that night than I thought she had. I couldn’t imagine she did. She was at the top of the stairs, and we were on the couch. It wasn’t possible for her to know, was it?
I remained preoccupied all through dinner. The kids both ate most of their food, but Sarah didn’t talk much during dinner. Tommy was chattier than ever. I loved how much he was opening up to me and coming out of his shell, but I couldn’t keep my attention on him. My eyes kept returning to Sarah’s face. I worried about her, but I didn’t know how to ask her what was wrong.
Sean ordered dessert for everyone. When it arrived, he raised his glass, and we all followed his lead.
“To Emily,” he said formally.
“To Emily!” Tommy said.
“Thank you,” I said softly, taking a sip of my water.
Sean’s toast was nice but seemed obligatory. He barely met my eye when he said the words, and he immediately looked away after. I didn’t know what was going on with him. How could he kiss me and then treat me this way? How could we go from making out on the couch to ignoring each other?
It didn’t make sense, and I was tired of the confusion. I wanted to demand answers right there at the dinner table, but I knew that would be a mistake. Besides, Sarah’s face was still turned down in an obvious frown, and she hadn’t so much as touched her chocolate cake.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked her softly.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” I took her hand and led her to the back of the restaurant.
We slipped inside the bathroom, and Sarah quickly disappeared in the first stall. I waited for her right outside, but after five minutes, I was worried.
“Are you okay?” I asked through the stall door.
Sarah sniffed and I pressed my ear closer to the door. It sounded like she was crying, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Sarah,” I said. “Sweetie, why don’t you come on out?”
“I can’t,” she said. Her voice broke, and she sniffed again.
“Come out,” I said gently. “You can tell me what’s wrong. Maybe we can fix it together.”
Sarah slowly unlocked the stall door and stepped out. She looked at me with tears running down her little face. In that moment, she didn’t look five years old. She looked not a day older than two or three. She was just a baby, a little girl who didn’t have a mommy to turn to when she was sad.
The sight of her like that made my heart ache. I reached out for her and she walked straight into my arms, burying her face in my shoulder.
While she cried, I held her tightly, smoothing my hand down her back. Her tears were soaking into my shirt, but I didn’t care. I would have held her all night if it meant she might feel a little better.
When she finally stopped crying enough to sit up, she pulled away from me and wiped her eyes. I grabbed her a tissue off the counter, and she blew her nose. When she was calm enough, I took her tiny hands in my mine, and she lifted her face to meet my eyes.
“What’s the matter, Sarah?” I asked. “Why are you so sad?”
“I’m scared,” she said, her voice weak.
“Of what?” I asked.
“I really like you, Emily,” she said. “But I don’t want you to be my mommy. Even though my mommy died, I still love her a lot.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I said, my heart breaking in my chest. “Come here.”
I hugged her again and held her close for a few seconds. When I pulled away, I smiled at her and moved her hair off her tear-soaked face.
“I would never try to take your mommy’s place,” I said. “Not ever.”
“Really?” Sarah asked.
“You will only ever have one mommy,” I said. “Her memory is something you’ll always have. You’ll carry it with you forever in your heart. No one, n