Chapter 10 - The Big Adventure
The golden afternoon light poured through the tall windows of our new home—a mid-century modern house nestled near the foothills, with a large backyard and an old oak tree that held a wooden swing I had built for Emma.
It was a Saturday afternoon. Emma was in the backyard, running through the sprinklers with our new golden retriever puppy, Barnaby. Her laughter rang out across the grass, pure, loud, and untroubled.
I sat on the back patio with a glass of crisp white wine, watching her play.
My life wasn't perfect, but it was completely mine. I had built it with my own hands, my own mind, and my own strength. I was no longer an accomplice to someone else’s narrative; I was the author of my own.
Emma came running up the wooden deck steps, her wet hair sticking to her forehead, holding a shiny red apple in her hand.
“Mommy! Look what Barnaby found!” she giggled, pointing at the dog who was happily rolling in the green grass.
“He’s a silly boy,” I laughed, wiping a droplet of water from her nose.
Emma leaned against my knee, looking out over the yard, then looked up at me with her bright, clear blue eyes.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are we going on our big adventure this summer?”
I smiled, remembering the terrible printed sign Logan had made for that ruined birthday party long ago—EMMA & MASON: OUR BIG ADVENTURE.
He had tried to define her adventure for her. He had tried to force her into a story where she was just a secondary character.
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I smoothed back Emma’s wet hair and kissed her cheek.
“Yes, baby,” I said softly, looking out at the sun setting over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold, blue, and pearl white. “We’re already on it.”
