Part 3 — What Grace Knew
I sat on the edge of my bed with the album in my lap.
Grace sat across from me on the small chair by the window.
She told me everything she knew.
Her mother’s name was Elena.
She and David had been together for three years before he met me.
When Elena found out she was pregnant David had already begun seeing me.
He had not told Elena about me.
He had not told me about Elena.
Elena had decided to raise Grace alone.
She had not wanted anything from David except for him to stay away.
He had respected that mostly.
He sent money through an attorney.
He visited Grace four times over her whole childhood.
When Elena died of an illness Grace was six and went to live with her aunt.
David found out through the attorney.
He continued sending money.
He never told me any of it.
When he got the diagnosis he called Grace for the first time in years.
She said: I almost didn’t answer.
She said: when I did he cried. He said he didn’t know how to be honest and that he had been a coward his whole life and he wanted to do something right at the end.
She said: I told him the right thing would have been fifteen years ago.
She said: but I came anyway.
I said: why?
She said: because I didn’t have anyone else either.
Part 4 — The Question
I sat with the album for a long time after Grace left the room.
My children were asleep.
The house was quiet in the specific way of houses where someone is recently gone.
I thought about fifteen years.
His hand reaching for mine in sleep.
The way he had looked at me across tables at ordinary dinners.
The things he had said and the things he had not said.
I thought about Grace standing in my doorway trembling.
About her saying he agreed with me when she called him cowardly.
About her coming anyway because she didn’t have anyone else either.
I called my sister Dana.
She answered immediately.
I said: I need to tell you something.
She said: I’m here.
I told her.
When I finished she was quiet for a moment.
Then she said: how do you feel?
I said: I don’t know yet. Both things are true. He loved me. And he kept this from me. And I don’t know how to hold both at the same time.
She said: you don’t have to figure that out tonight.
I said: Grace is in the guest room.
She said: yes.
I said: she told me he was a coward. She’s sixteen years old and she told him to his face that he was a coward.
She said: she sounds very honest.
I said: she is.
I said: she arrived with one backpack and a grocery bag and she’s been holding this for two weeks while also making herself useful in our house and watching David die and keeping my children steady.
Dana said: what are you going to do?
I said: I don’t know yet.