“Give her to me,” my mom demanded, making him take a step back.
Mom and I both froze as we stared at each other.
“If you tell me I look old, I’ll shave off your eyebrows while you sleep,” she said hoarsely, making me smile.
She didn’t look old at all. Her eyes had some fine lines similar to my dad’s, but otherwise she looked just like I remembered her. The skin of her cheeks and around her mouth were smooth and pale, her hair still the exact shade of blonde that it had always been.
“You look beautiful,” I said honestly, my nose stinging as I tried to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I’ve taught you well,” she replied, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing the side of my face. “Smart girl.”
“Holy hell,” my dad murmured, wrapping us both up.
“When did it come back?” Mom whispered.
“I’ve been seeing light for a while,” I answered, laying my head on her shoulder as we continued to stand in our little huddle in the middle of the kitchen. “But I could see everything when I woke up this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mom asked, squeezing me tighter until little arms started pushing in between us.
“What’re you guys doing?” my five-year-old sister asked, trying to work her way into the middle of us. “I want a hug!”
My parents pulled back so she could wiggle her way inside our huddle, and the minute I saw the top of her dark head, I fell to my knees.
My baby sister was beautiful. When I’d lost my sight, my mom had been pregnant with Charlie. I could map out her chubby cheeks and sturdy arms and legs in my sleep, but I’d never actually seen her. Her eyes widened as I reached up and gripped both sides of her head with my hands.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered.
She looked just like me. We had the same eyes and the same hair, and even though her skin was lighter than mine, she had our dad’s olive skin tone.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, trying to pull away. “Quit it, sissy!”
I dropped my hands and sat back on my feet as she pulled away from me, pushing her hair back from her face in a dramatic show of irritation. She looked just like my mom when she did that.
“I can see you,” I told her.
“No, you can’t,” she replied, sticking her tongue out. “You’re blind.”
Her words were so matter of fact that my mom and dad both gave watery snickers.
“Not anymore,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Uh-huh! What am I doing, then?” she asked with her tongue hanging halfway out of her mouth.
“You’re sticking out your tongue,” I answered. “And you look like a llama.”
“I do not!” She stared at me for a long time, then turned and glanced at me over her shoulder. “What am I doing now?” she asked as she shook her little booty.
“Shaking your butt at me,” I replied, laughing as I swatted her. “Knock it off, weirdo.”
“You can see?” she asked, turning back slowly, her eyes wide.
“Yeah,” I whispered, raising my eyebrows as I smiled huge. “How cool is that?”
“So cool!” she screamed, launching herself at me.
We hit the floor with a clatter, and I laughed hysterically as she bounced up and down on my stomach.
“Look! I got a scrape on my elbow and I have a scar right here!” she said, as she pulled her knee up for my inspection.
“Whoa, cool scar,” I said, watching her face as different expressions flittered across it.
“Did you know I got a purple skateboard? Curtis and Draco got boring black ones, but mine is purple ’cause Cam painted it just for me!”
“Of course he did,” I said hoarsely. “ ’Cause who wants a plain black one?”
“Right? Mine’s way better!”
“You guys want some breakfast?” my mom asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “I’m making pancakes.”
“Mom’s pancakes are always shaped weird,” Charlie said under her breath. “But they taste the same as Dad’s.”
“Good to know,” I whispered back, helping her up off the floor.
As I stood up, my eyes automatically went to the sliding glass door leading to our back yard, and my breath caught. I didn’t even realize I was moving toward it until my dad came up next to me and put his arms around my shoulders.
“We changed it,” he said quietly.
“I see that.”
“Put in that fountain. Got rid of the horseshoe pit, since I hated that fucking thing anyway.”
“The picnic tables are gone,” I murmured, leaning against him.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Needed space for the trampoline.”
“And the flowers.”
“Yeah, and the flowers. Amy helped with that.”
“They look good,” I said, tilting my head back to look at his face. “You guys did a good job.” I’d known, of course, when they’d made changes. It was hard to avoid that kind of commotion when you were living in close proximity. However, seeing the differences somehow made them real.