the Coleman memory book that was being put together and wondered how to wrap up something as rich and full as what she felt at that moment and put it into words.
Impossible.
And yet, out there, waiting for more conversation, was a man she had known for a brief time who had impacted her world beyond imagining. Mark was a memory, but so much more.
Maybe family memories weren’t only a snapshot of this moment or that. Perhaps it was somehow about how each tiny bit of family built on what had come before.
Becky’s gaze met Trevor’s across the room as he finished taking Arabella back from his father.
The bed dipped beside her, and Becky glanced over to discover Rachel resting on an elbow, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “You done good, sweetie. I’m looking forward to raising our babies together.”
Becky nodded, smiling through the tears. “That’s the best part of this. The love’s just going to keep growing and growing, isn’t it?”
Rachel blinked back a few tears of her own. “Pretty much. And we wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Coleman Memory Book
~Lee & Rachel (Moonshine) Coleman~
~Lee~
Winter in Alberta triggers a million memories all by itself. Snow caves, ATVs stuck in the drifts. Freezing cold fingers. Hot Chinook winds that unexpectedly melted the snow base and left our skidoos stranded. It took forever to walk home, our feet soggy messes by the end of it. The Coleman land is pretty big, and there’s a lot of nooks and crannies to get lost in.
But the winter memory that hits the deepest is from when I was about ten. Mom had made us drinks, and all of us sat by the fire, the wind howling outside the windows. We were trapped for three days. Other than chores in the nearest barn, we didn’t leave the house. Didn’t see or hear from anyone.
Trevor cheated at Monopoly every time Anna didn’t watch close enough. Steve practiced the same damn song over and over on the guitar. I’m sure I did something annoying in retaliation.
Mom and Dad sat in the love seat and held hands as they stared at the storm whirling outside. They were so connected that, as a kid, it made me feel safe. The world might disappear, but they would never change or leave us.
I learned a lot watching them. I’m still learning from them.
[Images of snowy winter scenes. A snow drift piled higher than the man door of the barn. Four children in snowsuits, grinning. Three lopsided snowmen with two adults standing between them and pretending to also be snowmen. The man wore a top hat, the woman a scarf, both with arms held out as if they were branches, carrots poking forward from their mouths.]
~Rachel~
I guess I have a winter memory as well.
Getting stuck in a cabin with Lee was a game changer. It’s funny, because I went there alone to put aside a bunch of sadness in my life, but if I’d had that cabin all to myself, I don’t think it really would’ve happened.
I learned that sad memories aren’t things that you can burn up, or drink away, or shove aside and not deal with. Sometimes you need to face them, but I think mostly you need to have something new to fill the aching hole in your soul.
That’s the biggest memory I have regarding coming into the Coleman family. Sometimes love comes when you don’t expect, from the direction you least expect.
From whom you least expect.
11
They’d made good time. Dana Coleman smiled as her daughter-in-law Laurel pulled into the yard outside Becky and Trevor’s house.
“There’s a big truck in the yard,” Laurel noted. “But not Trevor’s. I wonder if he’s home?”
Dana laughed. “You know that doesn’t mean anything. That boy still offers his truck to everyone and anyone.”
“True.”
Dana pointed toward the open spot with a cleared path through the snow to the front door. “If Becky’s here, she can tell us where to put things. If she’s not, we’ll do what we can to unpack the groceries we brought her so things are out of the way.”
“If you get the door, I’ll grab the first bags,” Laurel offered.
It was slick underfoot, but Dana made her way to the front porch with no problem. Her other daughter-in-law, Allison, had given her a new pair of boots with some magical material on the sole that made her footing solid enough Dana could skip over ice if she wanted to.
Not that she wanted to. In fact, this year’s winter could be over