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In the morning, well, mid-morning, it's almost eleven, I walk into the kitchen, each step I take, tugs uncomfortably on the band aids all over my thighs

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In the morning, well, mid-morning, it's almost eleven, I walk into the kitchen, each step I take, tugs uncomfortably on the band aids all over my thighs. Luckily, they're high enough for me to wear a pair of shorts without dad seeing them. He's in the kitchen, Niles is on his laptop at the breakfast bar and Aunt Ellie and Uncle Leroy are leaning against the counter top.

"There she is," dad says.

"Luce," Aunt Ellie shuffles past dad and her husband, throwing her arms wide open. Her hugs are nostalgic, she smells like sweet cinnamon and pine, it's a vintage smell. It reminds me of the nights I spent at her house while she and mom downed a bottle of wine and giggled until Uncle Leroy had to tell them to keep it down. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

Uncle Leroy doesn't give me a hug and I appreciate that, as much as I love Aunt Ellie, every touch gives me chest constrictions, and Uncle Leroy has never been much of a hugger anyway. He's quiet, kind of serious, he has been for a long time. Mom tells me that he used to be a different person. He smiled all the time, he was fun, he was energetic. Then his daughter was brutally assaulted and murdered and his light went out. He's still a good person, he still loves his family, but he's different. How can he not be?

"Your dad said you wanted to see some photos of Grandma Eleanor," Aunt Ellie pulls me by the elbow towards a box sitting on the other end of the bench top. It has L.E Skincare written all over it, her brand. We pass Niles, he's focused on some documents on his screen.

"Hi," I say, and he peers over his shoulder, smiling.

"Your grandmother had the best taste in clothing," Aunt Ellie says.

"When did dad tell you I wanted to see the photos?" It occurs to me that dad and I had this conversation last night and here she is.

"Last night," she says. "We came in this morning. I was too excited."

Dad and uncle Leroy talk over coffee while Aunt Ellie covers the bench top with old photos, the images are faded and the edges are worn but they're beautiful. Grandma Eleanor was beautiful. Drayton and Uncle Leroy look a lot like Grandpa Jacob too, the same smile and nose.

I take my phone out and start snapping photos of Polaroids and prints. Grandma wears a lot of large collar blouses, tailored blazers and billowy skirts. There's a photo of her and grandpa in the sixties, she's holding a microphone while she interviews him at the first super bowl, he was a big time quarterback in the NFL. That was where they met, it must have been love at first sight from the smiles on their faces.

"I wish I could have met them," I say.

Ellie gives me a sad smile. "Eleanor would've loved you. She was such a wonderful woman. She loved having your mom and I around too, to make up for not having her own daughter, I think. She loved having a granddaughter as well," she says and her whole face contorts into the epitome of grief at the mention of her daughter. It hurts to see such raw pain in such a sweet face. "She talked about spoiling her a lot. She would have been thrilled when you came along too."

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