I remembered.
His books spread across the table.
Richard grumbling because he couldn’t find room for his newspaper.
Liam solving math problems while eating leftover pizza.
“You bought me my first calculator.”
“I did.”
“You gave me fifty dollars when I graduated.”
I laughed softly.
“Richard complained about that for a week.”
“I know.”
“What did you study?”
“Accounting.”
I blinked.
“Accounting?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He looked at the pawn receipts.
“Because numbers don’t lie as easily as people.”
That sentence stayed with me.
He continued.
“I worked for an auditing firm.”
“Is that why you’re wearing a suit?”
He looked down at himself.
“This?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“I came from work.”
“You still live nearby?”
“About forty minutes away.”
My jaw dropped.
“You’ve been forty minutes away?”
“For five years.”
“And you never came?”
“No.”
The hurt returned.
He saw it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that.”
He nodded.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Then tell me why now.”
His expression changed.
He looked at the black box.
“Paul died.”
I knew Liam’s father had died several years ago.
I had seen the obituary.
I hadn’t gone to the funeral.
I had told myself it would be inappropriate.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“I know.”
Liam looked surprised.
“You knew?”
“I read the paper.”
He nodded.
“My mother died last year.”
I hadn’t known that.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
He reached into the box again.
“She left me documents.”
“What kind?”
“Letters. Bank statements. Photographs.”
“Those?”
“Some of them.”
I looked at the pile.
“She knew?”
“Everything.”
“About Richard being your father?”
“Yes.”
“About the jewelry?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“That part I discovered myself.”
“How?”
“Paul kept records.”
