Walter named that part Ellie’s Red Dress Fund.
The first time Jenna saw the name, she cried.
So did Walter.
And then there was Linda.
My mother-in-law had watched everything unfold from a distance.
The viral post.
The lunchboxes.
Walter’s story.
The fundraiser.
She said very little.
Then one Saturday morning, she came to my house carrying a small gift bag.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Is Jenna home?”
“Yes.”
Linda walked next door.
I followed.
Jenna opened the door with Sophie balanced on one hip.
Linda looked incredibly uncomfortable.
“I owe you an apology.”
Jenna’s face changed.
“For what?”
“I said something about Sophie.”
I saw recognition in Jenna’s eyes.
Apparently she had heard.
Linda continued.
“I said she wouldn’t understand a birthday.”
Jenna didn’t rescue her from the awkwardness.
I respected her for that.
Linda looked at Sophie.
“I spoke about your daughter as though understanding something exactly the way I do is the price a person has to pay to deserve love.”
