PART 3
Inside were three folded pages.
Daniel’s handwriting.
Mom recognized it immediately.
She had birthday cards from him.
Notes tucked into flower bouquets.
Little messages on grocery lists.
Same slanted capital letters.
Same heavy blue ink.
The first line said.
My dear Evelyn.
Mom stopped reading.
She closed her eyes.
Then opened them again.
I reached for the letter.
“Do you want me to read?”
She nodded.
So I did.
My dear Evelyn.
I am sorry I could not stay longer tonight.
You were tired.
You kept asking whether I remembered our first apartment.
I remember.
I remember the broken heater.
I remember the green sofa.
I remember the way you used to sing while making coffee.
Even if you forget these things, I will remember enough for both of us.
I stopped.
Mom’s face changed.
This was not a casual letter.
Not obligation.
Not guilt.
Love.
Deep.
Old.
Still alive.
Sophie looked at Grandma.
I continued.
I know the doctors say there may come a day when you no longer recognize me.
I am trying to prepare for that.
I do not think I can.
For now, I will keep coming at 7:45.
I will bring your scarf.
I will bring the old photographs.
I will tell you the same stories as many times as you need.
You are still my wife.
I will not forget that.
I stopped.
Nobody spoke.
Mom stared at the table.
Then she whispered.
“He is married.”
“Yes.”
“He is still married.”
“Yes.”
“And he has been dating me.”
I nodded.
Mom’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
Not yet.
“What do you mean?”
She stood.
“I need to hear it from him.”
I did not argue.
PART 4
Daniel called at 8:13.
His name appeared on Mom’s phone.
She stared.
Then answered.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
Then his voice came through faintly.
“I’m heading home.”
“From where?”
A pause.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Another pause.
Then.
“Mom?”
Sophie whispered.
“Put it on speaker.”
Mom did.
Daniel said.
“I was helping a friend.”
Mom laughed.
It sounded broken.
“A friend.”
“Yes.”
“Was her name Evelyn?”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Mom’s shoulders dropped.
Daniel finally whispered.
“How did you know that?”
She looked at Sophie.
Then the briefcase.
Then said.
“Your briefcase is on my dining table.”
The line went dead quiet.
Then.
“Oh God.”
That was all.
Mom closed her eyes.
I asked.
“Daniel?”
His voice returned.
“Margaret.”
“Please.”
Mom said.
“No.”
“Do not please me.”
“I want one answer.”
“Are you married to Evelyn?”
He inhaled.
“Yes.”
Mom’s face went blank.
Sophie started crying again.
Daniel continued.
“Margaret, I can explain.”
Mom said.
“Come here.”
I stared at her.
“Mom.”
She ignored me.
Daniel said.
“I can be there in twenty minutes.”
Mom answered.
“Good.”
Then hung up.
