Then she looked at Amara.
“You like it?”
Amara smiled.
“Yeah.”
Vanessa handed the camera back.
“Me too.”
That evening, after the children went inside, Marcus and Vanessa stayed on the porch.
The mountains had disappeared into darkness.
Marcus looked toward his wife.
“You remember Caleb’s eighth birthday?”
Vanessa groaned softly.
“I was hoping we’d go another decade before discussing that.”
Marcus smiled.
“I think about it sometimes.”
“So do I.”
“For a while I thought that was the day everything almost fell apart.”
Vanessa looked toward the cabin window.
Amara was inside showing Caleb photographs.
“It was.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“That was the day we stopped pretending everything was fine.”
She thought about that.
Marcus continued.
“The problems were already there.”
“Yes.”
“We just finally saw them.”
Vanessa nodded.
She stared at her hands.
“I still hate thinking about what I did.”
“You should remember it.”
She looked at him.
Marcus added, “Just don’t live there.”
Vanessa smiled slightly.
“That sounds like something Dr. Porter would say.”
“I stole it.”
“I knew it.”
They sat quietly.
After a while, Vanessa said, “I used to think families were supposed to feel complete.”
Marcus frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Like you could draw a circle around the right people and say, ‘This is it. Nothing outside matters.’”
Marcus listened.
“My dad leaving made me obsessed with that.”
She looked toward the window.
“I wanted something nobody could interrupt.”
“And Amara interrupted it?”
“I thought she did.”
Marcus said nothing.
Vanessa continued.
“Every time she came over, I was reminded you had loved someone before me.”
“I did.”
“I know.”
“You had a life before me too.”
“I know.”
“Everybody does.”
“I understand that now.”
Vanessa smiled sadly.
“I was so afraid of being replaced that I became the person trying to replace someone else.”
Marcus looked at her.
That was perhaps the clearest explanation she had ever given.
He took her hand.
“You didn’t replace her.”
“I know.”
“And she didn’t replace you.”
“I know that too.”
Inside the house, Amara called.
“Dad!”
Marcus shouted back.
“What?”
“Caleb ate the last brownie!”
“It had my name on it!” Caleb yelled.
Marcus sighed.
Vanessa laughed.
“Family.”
Marcus stood.
“Apparently.”
They went inside.
Years later, Amara would barely remember what gifts Caleb received on his eighth birthday.
She would forget the cake flavor.
Forget which cousins attended.
Forget what music was playing.
But she remembered standing beneath those balloons while Vanessa told her to step aside.