Then she tugged my sleeve, the way she had since childhood whenever she wanted something badly.
“This one.”
I smiled.
“You said that about the last three.”
“No. I liked those.”
She turned again.
“I love this one.”
“It is expensive.”
“Not very.”
“It costs more than our refrigerator.”
“The refrigerator does not have pearls.”
I laughed.
Then she touched my hand.
“Promise you’ll keep it forever.”
“You have not even worn it yet.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
The morning before prom, Teresa left on a hiking trip with three classmates.
Tanya Bell drove.
Phoebe Lane sat in the back beside Teresa.
Another girl, Marissa, rode in front.
Their friend Holly had planned to join them but woke with a fever.
“Take pictures of everything,” Holly told Teresa over the phone.
“Even the boring trees?”
“Especially those.”
I handed my daughter a light rain jacket.
“The weather report says storms later.”
“We’ll be back before then.”
She kissed my cheek.
“I’ll be home for dinner.”
Those were the final words she ever spoke to me.
