I managed to remain cheerful through our visit.
But afterward, when I got into my car, I cried.
Not because I resented Nora’s happiness.
I didn’t.
I was grateful she’d found Ellie.
I simply missed the daughter I’d never been able to raise.
As the days passed, Ellie began growing attached to me.
She called me Auntie Claire.
Whenever I visited, she’d bring me two colorful hair ribbons.
“Can you do my hair?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Two pigtails,” she’d insist. “Not one braid.”
I’d laugh.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t pull too hard!”
“I’ll be careful.”
She’d climb onto a kitchen chair, swinging her little legs while I divided her curls.
She was talkative, affectionate, and wonderfully particular about how she wanted things done.
Once, while I was tying her hair, she asked an unexpected question.
“Auntie Claire, do you have any kids?”
My hands stopped moving.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.