Chapter 14 - Lily Asked The Simplest Question
I showed Lily Ryan's note three weeks later.
Not because Daniel asked.
He didn't know I had it.
Not because Ryan asked again.
He didn't.
Because Lily brought him up during breakfast.
“Is Ryan Dad's kid?”
I stopped pouring milk.
Children have no interest in pacing.
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“Like me?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“So he's my brother?”
There it was.
Ten months of adult betrayal compressed into five words.
“Yes.”
Lily ate cereal.
I waited for devastation.
She asked:
“Older?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Five years.”
“That's a lot.”
“To you.”
She nodded.
Then:
“Why didn't I know?”
I sat.
“Dad didn't tell us.”
“Why?”
“He was scared.”
“Of you?”
My chest tightened.
“Partly.”
“Are you scary?”
“Sometimes.”
She smiled.
Then became serious.
“Did Ryan know me?”
“Yes.”
Her spoon stopped.
“How?”
“Dad told him about you.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
“Did he see pictures?”
“Yes.”
“All my pictures?”
“Some.”
She looked unhappy.
Reasonable.
Then:
“Did he hit me because he's my brother?”
“No.”
“Brothers don't hit?”
“They can. They shouldn't.”
“So why?”
“He was angry at Dad. And me. And you.”
“Why me?”
“Because he thought Dad loved you in a way he couldn't love him.”
Lily frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“No.”
“Dad can love two kids.”
“Yes.”
She went back to cereal.
Then:
“But Ryan hurt me.”
“Yes.”
“So I don't want to see him.”
“Okay.”
Immediate.
She looked at me suspiciously.
“You're not mad?”
“No.”
“Dad?”
“He will have to handle his feelings.”
Lily nodded.
Apparently satisfied.
I took out Ryan's note.
“There is something he wrote.”
She looked nervous.
“You don't have to read it.”
“What is it?”
“One sentence.”
“Does it say sorry?”
“Yes.”
She thought.
“Read it.”
I did.
“I'm sorry I hurt you.”
Lily stared at her cereal.
“That's all?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
I waited.
She ate another bite.
“Do I say something back?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She sounded relieved.
I folded the note.
Then she asked:
“Does he still live with his aunt?”
“Yes.”
“Does Dad see him?”
“Yes.”
“Does Dad see me?”
“Yes.”
“Same days?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“For now, separate is easier.”
Lily considered.
Then asked the question I had been avoiding because adults love complicated words.
“Are you still married?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still like Dad?”
I almost laughed.
“Sometimes.”
She smiled.
“Me too.”
Fair.
A week later Daniel came for dinner.
First time since moving out.
Not romantic.
Lily asked.
I said yes.
He brought no flowers.
Smart.
We ate pasta.
Lily explained at length that Ryan was her brother.
Daniel looked at me.
I gave him nothing.
This was hers.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Daniel put down his fork.
“Because I was scared.”
“Of Mom?”
“Partly.”
Lily looked at me.
I raised one eyebrow.
Daniel corrected:
“I was scared Mom might leave me.”
“Did she?”
“I moved out.”
“That's not leaving.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“No.”
Lily continued:
“Did you think I'd be mad?”
“Yes.”
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
“I still am.”
“I know.”
She ate another noodle.
Then:
“Ryan's mom died.”
“Yes.”
“That's sad.”
“Yes.”
“Does he still hate me?”
Daniel stopped.
Good.
He did not answer.
“I don't know.”
Lily nodded slowly.
Then looked at me.
May you like
I didn't answer either.
For once, no adult guessed what Ryan felt so the room could move on.
