“If you could time travel, when would you go to?” Rachel asked.
I shrugged. “Dunno. You?”
Rachel stuck out her chin. “I’d meet Jesus.”
I nodded, and thought about my answer.
In my mind, I travelled to the delivery room in 2009. I held Rachel’s hand as one last push brought our baby girl into the world. I brought Emily to my chest, and we both cried.
In her one minute of life, she was perfect.
“Emily,” I told her.
Rachel nodded, sculling beer to hide her tears. I did the same.