But he had the folder.
And the papers were real.
His father had lied.
His mother had allowed him to believe it.
And Daniel had built an entire adult life around a version of the past that was no longer possible to defend.
Chapter Four – The Birthday Party
Three months later, Lily turned nine.
Daniel spent the morning hanging decorations in the backyard.
Rebecca made cupcakes. Lily invited twelve classmates. By noon, the house was filled with children shouting over one another and asking when they could open presents.
Daniel carried a tray of lemonade onto the patio.
He had almost reached the table when Lily appeared beside him.
“Daddy?”
“What’s up, birthday girl?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She looked toward the kitchen.
“Why didn’t Grandma Evelyn come to my birthday?”
Daniel set down the tray.
He had told Lily about her grandmother’s death, but he hadn’t explained much else.
“Because she died, sweetheart.”
“I know.”
Lily looked embarrassed.
“I mean, why didn’t she come to my birthdays before?”
Daniel glanced at the children running across the lawn.
He could have given her a simple answer.
He could have said that families were complicated, that grown-ups sometimes made mistakes, that she would understand when she was older.
Instead, he crouched in front of her.
“Because I wouldn’t let her.”
Lily frowned.
“Was she mean to you?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I thought she had done something terrible. I was wrong about some of it.”
“Did you tell her?”
He looked down.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t find out until after she died.”
Lily considered this.
Then she asked, “Did she know you loved her?”
Daniel couldn’t answer.
His daughter waited.
He remembered the last phone call, the sound of his mother’s tired voice, and the way he had ended the conversation without saying goodbye.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Lily slipped her hand into his.
“Maybe you can tell her anyway.”
He looked at her.
“How?”
She shrugged.
“Mommy says people can still be important even when they’re not here.”
Daniel held his daughter’s hand.
Across the yard, Rebecca called that it was time for cake.
Lily started toward the house, then stopped.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Can Grandma Evelyn have a piece?”
Daniel looked at the birthday cake sitting on the kitchen counter.
It was decorated with pink frosting and nine small candles.
He thought about the bakery bag outside the school, the cinnamon roll his mother had picked up from the pavement, and the yellow sweater she had knitted for a granddaughter she was never allowed to hold.
“Yes,” he said.
“We can save her a piece.”
That evening, after the guests had gone, Daniel placed a small plate on the kitchen table.
