“You girls are so thoughtful.”
She sat on the couch.
The triplets stayed standing together.
Vanessa untied the ribbon.
Then reached inside.
The first thing she pulled out was a stack of letters.
Her smile faded.
Then came drawings.
Construction-paper Mother’s Day cards.
Birthday notes.
Little handmade envelopes.
“What is all this?”
Clara answered.
“Things we made when we were little.”
Vanessa opened the first letter.
The handwriting was childish.
Dear Mom,
Today I lost my first tooth. Grandma said you probably would’ve laughed because I looked in the mirror about fifty times.
Vanessa stared at it.
Lily handed her another.
“Age seven.”
She opened it.
Dear Mom,
I learned to ride my bike today. Grandma ran behind me even though her knees hurt afterward.
Another.
Age eight.
Dear Mom,
Clara got scared during the thunderstorm, so all three of us slept in Grandma’s bed. She said there was no room but she let us stay anyway.
