“I won’t.”
On Friday afternoon, Jamie spotted me as soon as I arrived.
“Mom, please don’t make it about Dad.”
“Grandma! You’re early!”
“I didn’t want to miss anything.”
He took my hand and led me to a chair near the front.
Daniel was helping arrange the room.
“I didn’t want to miss anything.”
When he finished, I approached him.
“Could we talk for a moment?”
“Sure.”
“I owe you an apology for the way Frank treated you. I should’ve spoken up more.”
“Could we talk for a moment?”
Daniel looked toward the children gathering nearby.
“He never had to like me, Margaret. I just wanted him to stop making Emily feel guilty for marrying me.”
“She was happy with you. I could see that.”
“She still is.”
He smiled a little.
“He never had to like me, Margaret.”
“Would you help me move those chairs?”
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I took the other end of one.
For once, helping felt more useful than explaining.
Jamie’s class had prepared a short presentation about family memories.
He showed a photograph of Emily teaching him to bake.
“Would you help me move those chairs?”
“Mom says I made a huge mess,” he announced.
“You did,” Emily called.
Everyone laughed.
Afterward, Jamie showed me the picture.
“Grandma, did Grandpa Frank ever come to my school?”
“Mom says I made a huge mess.”
I glanced toward Emily.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
“Your grandfather made some choices that kept him away from your family.”
“No, sweetheart.”
Jamie frowned.
“Was he angry with me?”
“Of course not. You hadn’t done anything wrong.”
He considered that.
“Okay. Can I get another cookie?”
“Was he angry with me?”
“Ask your mother.”
He hurried away.
Emily had heard us.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Ask your mother.”
“For telling him the truth without making him feel responsible.”
I wanted to hug her.
Instead, I smiled and let her return to Jamie.
After the school event, Emily invited me back for coffee.
Daniel took Jamie upstairs to finish his homework.
I wanted to hug her.
Emily and I sat at the kitchen table.
“I’ve been thinking about Dad’s letters,” she said.
“So have I.”
“I thought finding out he kept them would make me feel better.”
“Did it?”
Emily and I sat at the kitchen table.
“A little. But it doesn’t change what he did.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“If you’d known what he wrote, would you have stood up for me?”
I wanted to say yes. But I’d spent years asking Emily to be patient with him.
“But it doesn’t change what he did.”
“I hope so,” I admitted. “But I can’t promise that.”
Emily looked down.
“I never wanted you to choose between us.”
“I know. And I should’ve stood up for you without being asked.”
She turned her cup slowly.
“I can’t promise that.”
“So what happens now?”
“That depends on what you want, Emily. I’m done deciding what’s best for everyone without asking.”
She looked at me.
“I missed you, Mom. Even when we talked every week.”
“I missed you too.”
“So what happens now?”
Emily reached across the table and took my hand.
We were still talking when Daniel came downstairs.
“Are you staying for dinner, Margaret?”
I looked at Emily.
We were still talking.
“Only if you’d like me to.”
She smiled.
“There’s enough for everyone.”
“Then I’d love to.”
Daniel brought another plate to the table.
“I’d love to.”
Jamie came downstairs and pulled out the chair beside his.
“Grandma, you can sit here.”
I sat down, and Emily passed me the potatoes.
“Mom, will you come over next Sunday?”
Jamie came downstairs.
I looked at her.
“I’d love that.”
“Good. Jamie wants you to teach him how to make your chocolate-caramel cookies.”
I smiled.
“Then I’ll come early. We’ll make them together.”
