Chapter 9 - The Gallery Wall
On a Saturday morning in May, we hosted our first real housewarming party.
It wasn't a grand, formal affair like the ones my parents used to insist on throwing to impress their suburban neighbors. There were no assigned seats, no rigid color schemes, and no artificial expectations.
It was just the people who actually loved us.
My coworker Karen was there, bringing a massive bowl of homemade potato salad. Sarah Vance, who had transitioned from my terrifying legal representative into a dear friend, arrived with a bottle of champagne and a giant stargazing map for Ella. And to my surprise, my sister-in-law Sarah and her daughter Paige drove up to visit.
Sarah had officially divorced Eric two months prior, moving into her own apartment in the city and taking Paige with her. She had cut ties with the Vance family dynamic just as I had, realizing that raising her daughter in that environment was toxic.
Paige and Ella sat together on the rug in the living room, pouring over a massive illustrated book about black holes, chatting animatedly without a care in the world.
"They look happy," Sarah said, stepping up beside me near the kitchen counter, offering me a glass of wine.
"They are happy," I said, watching Paige laugh as Ella made a goofy face to demonstrate zero gravity. "How are you holding up with the divorce?"
"It’s hard," Sarah admitted, taking a sip of her drink. "Eric tried to guilt-trip me, said I was breaking up the family just like you did. But then I remembered what you said at the title office. A family built on lies and enabling isn't a family—it’s just a trap."
"Are your parents... I mean, Arthur and Eleanor, how are they?" I asked, realizing it was the first time I had spoken their names in months.
Sarah sighed softly. "They moved into a small, rented two-bedroom condo near the highway. Nicole hardly visits them anymore because she’s too busy trying to rebuild her client base after the internet backlash. Eric lives in their spare room because he can't afford his own place. It’s... pathetic, Megan. They sit in that dark living room all day, blaming everyone else for what happened."
I looked out the window at the lake, watching the sunlight bounce off the ripples.
"I hope they find peace someday," I said, surprised to find that I actually meant it. "But it's not my job to give it to them."
Later that evening, after the guests had eaten and the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in gorgeous shades of violet, orange, and gold, the adults gathered in the living room.
Chris—a lovely, quiet landscape architect I had met through Sarah two months ago who had been helping us design an indigenous wildflower garden in the backyard—stood on a step stool near the brick fireplace, holding a hammer and a picture hook.
"A little to the left?" Chris asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
"A tiny bit higher," I smiled.
He tapped the nail into the mortar between the bricks, took the framed photograph from my hands, and hung it securely in the exact center of the mantle.
It wasn't just the photo of Ella and me from closing day.
May you like
Over the past three months, we had created a true family gallery. Surrounding our picture were framed photos of Ella laughing with Paige, a shot of Karen and me at work, a picture of Sarah Vance holding a glass of wine on our porch, and a brilliant, high-resolution NASA photograph of the Andromeda galaxy that Ella had chosen herself.
Every single person in those frames was there because they chose to be. Every face was celebrated for exactly who they were. Nobody was cropped. Nobody was adjusted. Nobody was erased.
