Part 2:

"She'd be proud, Milana. You're doing a damn good job," Grampa told me. He surprised me by swearing. My husband read the room and stepped out.

My teeth began to feel funny. They shouldn't have, but I realized my eyes were leaking fluid, too. "I just wanted her to see them, Grampa," I choked. "She would have loved them so much."

"More than you, even," he offered.

I laughed through the tears.

"She was gettin' old anyway," Grampa said, smiling. "I'll miss her, but I've still got a couple decades left in the tank, so long as I don't get into any terrible accidents."

"You're seventy-five, Grampa."

"Oh, maybe I'll last three decades, then." He reached out and patted me on the back. "She sees ya. You and your girls, and that husband of yours. And when I go, I'll keep watchin' ya too."

I didn't respond, but Grampa read my thoughts like a book.

"Your parents see you, too. They've been watchin' this whole time. No son of mine wouldn't be proud of his daughter, that's what I say." He turned to go. "Oh, before I forget. I was supposed to give this to you when ya turned thirty, but I reckon your spirits need a lift."

He tossed me a key. I caught it with the hand holding my daughter's tail.

"Your mama and papa left you a little something. I hid it underneath your TV stand, since you never clean underneath that thing."

Later, after the night's chill sent the girls to sleep (Grampa said humans babies are much more rowdy, even if they're a lot lighter), I used my tail to pull an old metal shoelocker out from under the TV stand. I used the key to open it up. Inside was a photo of two people I had only seen in photos. They were my parents.

Holding me.

My father held my upper half, and my mom had my tail wrapped around her arms. I was smiling. I was laughing.

And there was a note.

​

Dear Milana,

We're sorry we're not there to tell you this ourselves, and we're sorry that we missed all of those little days that all parents should be there for. We're sorry we missed your first day of school, and your first lost tooth, and your first date, and your high school graduation. We're sorry we were never there to coach you through your exams, or to hold you through your break ups, or to wipe away your tears when you are just hurt and need someone to be there.

We're sorry that you won't ever get to hear our voices telling you how proud of you we are. We're sorry you won't get to hear your parents tell you how much we love you.If it were an option, we'd still be there, but life and death wait for no one. We don't always get a choice.

But, in the times that we do choose, for the brief time we knew you, you were the best choice either of us ever made.

With more love than we can possibly ever say,

Mama and Papa.

​

There was one more thing. A stuffed snake, sitting at the bottom of the shoelocker.A coral snake. Another note.

​

Our blood makes us strong.

Love, Mama.

​

I picked the snake up and went to my daughters' crib. I kissed both of them. Then, I went to bed, leaving the snake behind.