At home, she dumped her backpack and headed for the shower, humming. I wandered into the kitchen, poured water, and stared at the letter. I ran my fingers over the signature, the embossed school crest.
I’d earned this, too.
***
“Can we have pancakes for dinner tomorrow?”
Later, folding laundry, Audrey padded in, comfy in her pajamas and wet hair.
“Mom, do you think Dad saw today?”
I smiled at her. “I think he was right next to you as you spoke, honey. And I think he’d be so proud of you. I know I am.”
She hugged me hard. I held on, fierce and proud.
That night, as I sat at the table, rubbing lotion into my palms, I realized it wasn’t the scholarship letter that made me enough. It was Audrey’s voice, and my own, finally heard.
