Most of them were the same photos that had been hanging in the house Olivia had lived in, but there were a few new ones. Jaxy’s first day of first grade, Ruby and Devon at a father-daughter dance, both of the kids with an older couple I vaguely remembered as Devon’s parents. It was a beautiful mixture of before Olivia and after.

   At the end of the hallway was the living room, which I’d already walked through but hadn’t gotten a good look at. Stopping, I looked around the room and took it in, gasping, bringing my hand to my mouth.

   Above their fireplace, at the focal point of their living room, was a large, beautiful print of a photo of Olivia. A photo I’d taken the day of her wedding before the ceremony while she was getting ready. She was smiling and mid-laughter. Her hair was curling around her face in soft ringlets, and pearls at her neck made the photo timeless. The silken robe she wore looked entirely as soft and luxurious as her smile. She was happy. And beautiful. And alive. Alive with so much more than just breath and a heartbeat. She was alive with love and happiness.

   Anyone would see that picture and think the woman in it was happy.

   I looked at that picture and knew Olivia was filled to the absolute brim with happiness the day that photo was taken. I remembered her happy. She was radiating with it. As the photo so powerfully demonstrated.

   I’d tried not to look at photos of Olivia in the past few years. It was a sure trigger for tears. I thought about her often, but since LA was so removed from my life with her, I never got the chance to talk about her much. Even Nate was post Olivia on the timeline of my life. He asked about her every once in a while, but I think he knew it upset me, so she wasn’t a regular topic of conversation.

   My eyes drifted from the happy photo and I noticed a few smaller photos throughout the living room. One was on the side table – a picture of Olivia hugging her children, both their faces smashed up against the sides of hers, all three smiling widely, Jaxy’s eyes closed because he was smiling so big. Another photo of Liv and Devon, both dressed up and looking fancy, probably at some work function for Devon. But they were connected at the sides, his arm around her back, her arm wrapped around his waist. Her other hand was resting against his chest and they were looking into each other’s eyes with obvious and abundant love.

   That photo made me smile. Liv had loved him so.

   On the back of their couch rested a blanket Liv had crocheted while on bedrest with Jaxy. I recognized it because I’d gone to the craft store and purchased all the supplies for it, then sat in her room, next to her bed, in a recliner Devon had moved in there just for me, as she crocheted nearly the whole thing.

   It was worn and well used, and I spied some holes where the yarn had torn. Olivia had worked so hard on that blanket and then complained when no one had used it. It had been folded up in their linen closet for years, the kids complaining that it had been scratchy and always opted for other forms of warmth in the winter months.

   Now, they lived in Florida where cold weather was practically unheard of, and the blanket looked worn and well loved.

   Olivia was missing from this house, but she wasn’t absent.

   She was on the walls, and draped over the couch. She was in their hearts, on their faces, woven into their lives. She was not, however, anywhere to be found in the bathroom. And that was okay.

   “Auntie Evie,” I heard Jax shout from the entrance to the kitchen. “Dad says we have to have chicken for dinner, but Ruby and I want pizza.” He came running out to me, instantly grabbing my hand without hesitation. “We asked Nate what he wanted, but he said something about not angering the beast, and that he votes whatever you vote.”

   I laughed and squeezed his hand, walking back to the kitchen. “I think chicken sounds pretty good.”

   “Aw, come on, Auntie Evie,” Ruby said from the barstool she was sitting on, right next to the one Nate was atop. “Chicken isn’t any fun. And we hardly ever get to eat pizza.”

   “You can’t barbeque pizza, Ruby,” Devon said with a smile. “We invited Evie and Nate over for a winter barbeque.”

   “She can probably barbeque in LA in the winter. She’s not impressed with our weather, Dad.” Ruby hadn’t lost her trademark snark.

   “She’s got a point,” I said, laughing. “I can barbeque in the winter in LA. But I never have, so this is going to be a first.”

   “See? We barbeque.” The adults laughed while the kids sulked.

   I lowered my voice and whispered, pretending Devon couldn’t hear me. “Maybe if you’re really good, your dad will let me take you both out for pizza tomorrow night.”

   Devon’s smiling eyes met mine over the heads of his children and he laughed.

   “Yes!” Jaxy shouted as he pulled a fisted hand down to his waist. Ruby clapped and bounced excitedly in her seat.

   “Nate, would you like to help me get the grill going?”

   “Sure thing,” he answered immediately and with an exceedingly friendly voice.

   “Great, I’ll grab the meat tray if you want to grab the sauce tray.”

   Devon didn’t have a toothbrush holder in his bathroom, but he had a separate grilling tray for meat and sauces.

   The kids and I stayed indoors for a few minutes, but then I was taken outside because I had to see their pool and trampoline.

   We ate some delicious chicken. The kids showed Nate and me all their cool trampoline tricks, and the three adults sat on the porch, slowly drinking beer and watching two well-adjusted children enjoy their backyard.

   “Nate,” Jaxy yelled from his trampoline.

   “Yeah, buddy?” Nate called out, a smile on his face.

   “Do you know how to play Minecraft?”

   “Is that a board game?”

   Jaxy’s mouth gaped open in surprise and a tiny bit of dismay. “A board game? No, it’s not a board game. Come on,” he said, making a surprisingly graceful, bouncing dismount from the trampoline. He walked right over to Nate and put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll show you what Minecraft is. Dad doesn’t like to play it with me. Says it’s boring.”

   “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it though,” Devon said to Nate with a devilish grin. I tried to stifle a laugh.

   Nate stood at the urgent pulling of his hand from Jax and was dragged into the house. Within five seconds, Ruby was trailing after them.

   “Do not play on my game, Jax. I don’t want Nate ruining my progress.” More classic Ruby snark. That made it impossible to stifle my laughter any longer.

   I heard the sliding glass door slam shut and let out a deep breath, my laughter ending. Then I realized Devon and I were alone, and I suddenly became tense.

   I picked up my beer, which was nearly empty, but I pretended as if it still had a swig left in it and took a drink hoping to stall the awkwardness I was feeling.

   “I’m glad you made it out for a trip. The kids have been bouncing off the walls all week waiting for you to get here.”

   “It’s a little overdue,” I said quietly, thinking about the long years between squeezing those kids. “I don’t think I want another two and a half years to go by without seeing them, Devon.” I knew it was completely up to him. I knew he could tell me that it was over, that the kids didn’t need me in their life, that it was better just to say goodbye for good. “I love them, Devon. And they’re the last piece of Liv I’ve got left.”

   “I know,” he said, then surprised me by reaching out and giving my hand a squeeze. He didn’t linger. He removed his hand and placed it back around his beer. “They need you too, ya know. You have stories about their mother I can’t tell them. They deserve that connection. And there are few people on this planet who love them like you do.”

   I let out a stuttered breath, feeling a weight lift off me I hadn’t realized I was carrying. Devon was going to let me keep seeing Jax and Ruby. I would get to be a part of their lives. There was something akin to sunshine bursting through me, warming me, calming me.