Chapter 13 - Maya's Lesson
On Sunday morning, the kitchen was bright with autumn sunlight. Maya sat at the dining table with her watercolor set, painting a picture of large green trees.
Julian sat down next to her, looking rested for the first time in months. His eyes were clear, the perpetual shadow of guarded fatigue lifted from his brow.
"Maya," he said gently. "Do you remember when you asked if Dad and Mom were okay?"
Maya paused her paintbrush, looking up with solemn curiosity. "Yes."
Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the one Clara had given him of David standing proudly in front of the lodge. He set it gently on the table next to her paints.
"This was your Uncle David," Julian said. "I didn't talk about him for a long time because I was angry and hurt. When people get hurt, Maya, sometimes they close their hearts and pretend the people who hurt them don't matter anymore. That was a big mistake Dad made."
Maya looked at the photo, tracing the wooden frame with a finger. "What did Uncle David do?"
"He built a home for kids who didn't have one," Julian replied. "And when he died, Mom and I had to make a choice. We had to decide whether to keep everything we had safe for ourselves, or share a piece of what we had so those kids wouldn't lose their home."
Maya tilted her head, her gaze searching. "Did we share?"
May you like
"We did," Adrianne said, coming over with a tray of sliced fruit and kissing the crown of her daughter's head. "We shared a lot. It means we won't be taking a big vacation next summer, and we have to be careful with our budget for a while. But twelve kids have a bed to sleep in tonight because of it."
Maya looked back at the photograph of David, then picked up her green brush and painted a sturdy brown trunk beneath the leaves. "I think that was a good choice, Dad."
