The cherry pie sat in the middle of the table, decorated with eighteen candles.
Just before blowing them out, Sophie unexpectedly raised her hand.
“Wait. I want to say something.”
Everyone fell silent.
Sophie turned toward her mother.
“Mom, when I was little, some kids at school thought you were my older sister.”
Emily smiled.
“I remember.”
“And I always felt so proud telling them you were my mom.”
Emily’s eyes filled with tears.
“Sophie…”
“You were just a kid yourself when I was born. But because of you, Grandma, and Grandpa, I got to have a real childhood.”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Emily.
“I know how much you sacrificed for me. And now I want you to start living a little for yourself, too.”
Martha turned away, wiping her cheeks.
Emily held her daughter tightly.
Then she looked toward the framed photograph of her father on the bookshelf.
