I could protect that version of him.
I could let them believe the same complete story I had believed.
Then I looked at the box.
That was exactly what Robert had done to me.
He had chosen which truths I was allowed to carry.
A week later, I invited Claire to our house.
I would not make that choice for our children.
A week later, I invited Claire to our house.
Daniel opened the door.
He looked from her to me.
“Mom?”
I said, “This is your aunt Claire.”
Rebecca thought I was joking.
His mouth fell open.
Rebecca thought I was joking.
There were too many questions for one afternoon. I told them what I knew and refused to make Robert a villain or a saint.
He had been their father.
He had also been someone’s missing brother.
Both things were true.
“What was Grandpa like when he was young?”
