When we finished, Dad folded the handwritten bill of sale in half and put it in the glove box where the mice used to live.
So, we remember what she cost, he said.
And what she’s worth now.
He drove that truck for 20 years.
He still took it out every Sunday.
Years later, I would give up something I could never get back just so he wouldn’t have to sell it.
When I was 18, my college fund went sideways.
That’s how my mother put it.
The money went sideways for a while.
What she meant was that Tessa, who was 13, was having a terrible year at the public middle school.
Some girls had been cruel to her online.
She stopped eating lunch.
She cried every morning.
My parents moved her to a private Christian school and paid for a counselor twice a week.
I don’t say that to make it sound small.
She was really hurting.
But the money came from the account my grandparents had opened for my college and nobody asked me.
I found out when I opened the statement myself.
Balance $0.
You’re smart, Gina, Mom said when I brought the statement into the kitchen.
You’ll land on your feet.
Your sister doesn’t have that.
So, I landed on my feet.
I took classes at the community college at night and answered phones at the dental practice during the day.
I paid for my own textbooks.
I bought my own car.
Later, Tessa enrolled in cosmetology school twice and quit twice.
My parents paid both times.
I never said anything.
I told myself I understood.
She was fragile.
I was not.
I did land on my feet.
That’s the problem with landing on your feet.
Nobody thinks you need a hand.
That same year, when Tessa was 13, she decided she wanted her ears pierced.
Mom took her to the kiosk at the mall.
The girl behind the counter picked up the piercing gun, and before it even touched her ear, Tessa went white and slid off the stool onto the floor.
She never tried again.
She wore clip-on earrings all through high school.
She couldn’t watch someone get a flu shot on television without looking away.
In September of 2018, I married Nolan in a restored barn outside Carlilele.
It was a small wedding, about 90 people.
My father gave a toast.
He had written it on an index card and his hand shook.
And halfway through, when he got to the part about the truck, his voice broke.
That was when Tessa fainted.
She was 24.
She said later it was a panic attack, that the room had been too hot and too loud.
She went down right in the middle of Dad’s toast and she landed in a padded chair near the dance floor.
Everybody rushed over.
Someone called for water.
Someone else called for ice.
My mother held her head.
The first dance was delayed 40 minutes.
I stood in my wedding dress holding my bouquet and watched my family crowd around my sister.
Later that night in the hotel, Nolan took off his tie and sat on the edge of the bed.
She checked where the chair was, he said quietly.
Before she fainted, she looked right at it.
That’s not fair, I said.
She has anxiety.
You don’t know her.
He didn’t push.
He just nodded.
Okay.
It was the first time I defended my sister against the truth.
It wouldn’t be the last.
Nolan and I started trying to have a baby in 2020.
For a long time, we didn’t tell anyone.
You learn quickly that people mean well and say terrible things.
Just relax.
It’ll happen when you stop trying.
My cousin got pregnant on vacation, so we kept it between us and I tracked everything in my planner the way I track everything.
After 3 years, we saw a fertility specialist.
After four, we had a diagnosis.
Low ovarian reserve.
It means your body has fewer eggs left than it should for your age.
I was 35.
The doctor was kind and direct.
I appreciated both.
Every year matters, Gina, she said.
Not every month, but every year.
Our insurance didn’t cover IVF.
Most plans in Pennsylvania don’t.
So, we saved.
Nolan picked up extra night shifts.
I stopped buying anything that wasn’t on a list.
We opened a separate savings account and gave it a nickname so we’d never touch it by accident.
We called it Sage.
By September of 2024, Sage had $18,000 in it, enough for one egg retrieval and the medication.
We booked the retrieval for January.
That was the weekend we painted the third bedroom.
We decided to tell my family at Sunday dinner.
