Page 72 of Breadwinner
“I’ve got an adorable set of leather restraints I’ve been dying to take for a spin.” Sarah heard a sputtering, followed by coughing in the background of Nell’s call—no doubt Nate losing it over what Nell had just said to her.
Sarah played along, matching her easy teasing. “Hmm... I’ll have to think about that. That was never part of our arrangement.”
“I think you’ll find the language of the terms flexible enough to accommodate what I want to do to you.”
“Whatever you say.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Correct. WhateverIsay.”
Sarah smiled, a thrill shooting through her as she let her mind wander to the things Nell might want to do to her.
“Ride Space Mountain for me, okay? It’s my favorite.”
“For you? Anything.”
The line clicked as Nell hung up.
Just like always, there was no goodbye.
Later that evening, after the wrapping paper had been cleared away, after Christmas dinner had been served and hugs given, the house was finally still. Lights from the tree twinkled, illuminating the room.
Beth and Jamie had left after dinner, carrying bags of gifts and leftovers. Wren, who had been half snoozing on the couch for the entirety of the movieElf, finally pulled herself up to head to bed, disappearing upstairs.
That left Sarah and Lily curled up on the couch under a massive knit throw blanket.The Grinchplayed on the TV—not the cartoon version, “the one with the people,” as Lily had always called it. Sarah wasn’t about to argue. She had a half-empty mug of peppermint hot chocolate in her hand and her arm loosely draped around Lily’s shoulder.
She stole a glance at her daughter, marveling at how much she was beginning to look less like a kid and more like the adult she was becoming.How on earth do I have a seventeen-year-old?
“You know, technically, the Grinch kind of has two moms,” Lily said, catching Sarah off guard.
“What?”
Lily pointed to the TV. “When the Grinch gets dropped off, it’s those two Whoville ladies who raise him, and no one ever makes a big deal about it.”
A pang of guilt twisted in Sarah’s chest, realizing what this moment was triggering for her daughter. “Lily?—”
“It’s fine, Mom,” she interrupted quietly. “I just wish people would find something else to ask me about. Every time a reporter brings it up, I want to scream. I feel like what they’re really asking me is to explain our family.”
“I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, sweetie.”
Lily shrugged off her words. “It’s okay. I’ve figured out how to handle it. Jamie and Amanda have been really helpful with teaching me how to navigate the interviews and everything. I’m polite and I talk about love and support and try to give them the soundbite I know they want.” She turned to face Sarah fully now. “But it still sucks sometimes. Not because of you and Mama or Jamie; just because people are dumb and small-minded.”
Sarah reached out and tucked a strand of fine blonde hair behind Lily’s ear, her fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.
“I don’t get it, though,” Lily continued. “It’s so stupid. I mean, you and Mama taught me that love is what makes a family, not who carried who or what last name you have. It’s love. I get to live that every day, and I think that’s so cool. I feel sorry for the people who don’t get to experience what I do because they can’t see past their own version of family.”
Sarah sat there, quietly stunned and blown away by Lily and the way her mind processed the world around her. Yeah, she was probably going to cry.
“You know,” Sarah choked out, her voice hoarse, “you’re kind of incredible.”
“Ew, Mom, don’t cry!” Lily teased, snuggling in deeper under the blanket. “But you’re right. I am kind of incredible.”
They watched the remainder of the movie together, with Lily curled up with her the same way she used to when she was younger, and Sarah running her fingers through Lily’s long blonde waves.
“Mom?” came Lily’s quiet voice.
“Mmm?”
“How come you never go on any dates?”