PART 1
For years, I believed my husband’s family had decided that my children and I simply didn’t belong. I accepted every excuse Nathan gave me because keeping the peace seemed easier than demanding an answer. Then, during the eleventh summer he left us behind, one photograph forced my fifteen-year-old daughter to ask the question I had spent years avoiding.
The first summer Nathan went on his family beach vacation without us, Sophie was four. She kept a little pink plastic beach shovel beside her bed because her father had promised she could use it “next time.” There was never a next time. By the time Sophie was fifteen and her younger brother Caleb was eleven, both children had learned not to sound hopeful when Nathan started packing.
That afternoon, Sophie stood in the hallway while Nathan folded linen shirts into his suitcase.
“Is Ava going?”
Nathan’s hands paused. Ava was his daughter from his first marriage to Aurora. I had always known about both of them, although Nathan claimed his relationship with Aurora was tense and limited to necessary conversations about their daughter.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“You don’t know whether your own daughter is going?” I asked.
“Aurora and I barely talk unless it involves family logistics.”
Caleb looked up at him.
“Will we ever get to go?”
Nathan gave him the gentle smile he always used when he wanted a difficult conversation to disappear.
“This is just how my family does vacations, buddy.”
“We are your family too, Nathan.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
He zipped his suitcase.
“My parents, my siblings, cousins—the people I grew up with. It’s tradition.”
“One summer might be tradition. Eleven summers is a decision.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not doing this today.”
“You never do it any day.”
He kissed Sophie’s forehead, ruffled Caleb’s hair, picked up his suitcase, and left. What hurt most wasn’t simply that he excluded us. It was that he had somehow taught our children to feel ashamed for being hurt by it.
After the door closed, Caleb shrugged.
“It’s okay, Mom. I didn’t really think he’d take us.”
Sophie stared at the door.
