Chapter 50

• Jessie’s POV
• The sun, still shy behind a thin veil of clouds, painted the kitchen in soft, muted tones. It was a crisp Saturday morning, the kind that hinted at fall even though summer was still clinging to the air with a tenacious grip. A gentle breeze, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant blossoms, rustled the curtains at the open window. Inside, the air was thick with anticipation, a palpable hum that had been building for days. Cal Jr. and Sophie, our energetic, bright-eyed seven-year-olds, had been buzzing like trapped bees about the “Family Day Picnic” at their school. It was an annual event, a chaotic, joyous mix of food, boisterous games, charmingly off-key performances, and the inevitable parental show-offs – who could bake the best cookies, whose child was the most adept at the three-legged race.
• In the past, we’d navigated these school functions like a carefully choreographed dance, taking turns attending. Sometimes Olivia, with her calm demeanor and reassuring presence, would go, her smile a comforting anchor in the bustling crowd. Other times, it was me, armed with a camera and an endless supply of encouraging cheers. And then there was Cal, a natural at engaging with other parents, his easy laugh echoing across the playground. It wasn’t because we were hiding, not truly. It was just… easier that way. Less explanation, fewer curious stares, a quieter path for our unconventional family. But today felt different. A shift, subtle yet profound, had occurred.