My fingertips brushed the faded blue felt.
Then I saw it.
One blue button.
One green button.
The green one still had the tiny chip along its edge where I'd dropped it on my dorm room floor before sewing it on.
Every last doubt disappeared.
I wasn't looking at a copy. I was holding the little bear I'd made for Richard two decades earlier.
Jordan traced one tiny blue ear with his thumb.
"I always figured she'd probably laugh if she saw it now."
My heart began pounding.
Stormy smiled.
"So who made it?"
Jordan looked down at the bear for a moment before answering.
"I don't actually know."
"You don't?"
"Mon père ne m'a jamais dit son nom."
Il haussa les épaules.
"He just said she was the only woman he ever truly loved."
The words landed with astonishing force.
Stormy's smile softened.
"Qu'est-ce qui s'est
"I've asked him a hundred times."
"And?"
"He always says he lost her because he waited too long to tell her the truth."
I felt something tighten painfully inside my chest.
Jordan continued, unaware that every sentence was pulling another thread loose inside me.
"He kept almost nothing from back then."
He looked again at the little bear.
"Just this."
Stormy smiled.
"That's actually kind of romantic."
Jordan a ri. "Quand j'ai obtenu mon diplôme d'études secondaires, il me l'a remis."
"Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit ?" Stormy a demandé.
Jordan smiled faintly.
"He said, 'One day you'll love somebody enough to understand why some things are impossible to throw away.'"
Jordan looked down at the little bear.
"I didn't understand what he meant until tonight."
I looked down at my plate before either of them could see my face.
Because I remembered the exact conversation.
Twenty-two years earlier.
Richard had been studying for finals while I finished sewing the last few stitches.
"What if it brings you bad luck?" I'd joked, handing him the tiny bear.
He'd clipped it onto his backpack.
"Impossible."
"How do you know?"
He kissed my forehead.
"Parce que ça vient de toi."
Stormy reached across the table and gently nudged Jordan's arm.
"I think your dad sounds sweet."
Jordan smiled.
"Il l'est."
Il y avait de l'affection dans sa voix. Une véritable affection. Le genre qui ne pouvait pas être falsifié.
Ce qui veut dire que Richard était devenu un bon père.
La réalisation m’a laissé avec fierté, tristesse, et plus de questions que je ne pouvais supporter. J'ai nettoyé les assiettes de dessert avant que quelqu'un ne remarque que mes mains tremblaient.
As I stood at the sink, I heard Stormy laugh behind me.
Then Jordan spoke.
"I should probably call my dad."
"Why?" Stormy asked.
"He was supposed to pick me up after dinner."
Jordan pulled out his phone.
A second later, he frowned.
"That's strange."
"What?"
"My battery died."
Stormy vérifiait l'heure.
"Maybe he's already outside."
