Chương 3
“Mr. Gray?”
She held up the rabbit.
Damian studied the damaged seam. “I don’t know how to sew.”
“Mom did.”
Naomi’s face turned toward the shelves.
Marlene, who had been standing near the door, said, “I do.”
Lily looked at her. “Can you use the red thread?”
Marlene glanced at the thread that had held the wedding ring inside the toy. “It may be too old. If I pull it tight, it could break.”
“Then don’t fix him yet.”
“All right.”
Lily returned the rabbit to her chest.
Damian finally opened the envelope. Eva’s letter was on top, folded into thirds. His name appeared across the front in handwriting he had once seen on grocery lists, architectural sketches, birthday cards, and a note taped to his bathroom mirror that read, You are allowed to own six identical black shirts, but I am allowed to make fun of you for it.
The D in Damian slanted backward.
His hand stopped.
Naomi watched him. “You don’t have to read it in front of us.”
He unfolded it anyway.
Damian,
If Lily is standing in front of you, then I ran out of time or courage. Probably both.
He lowered the page.
Lily was watching him over the rim of her cup.
“Would you like me to read it later?” he asked.
“No. Mom said it was yours.”
The letter continued.
I am not sending her to be absorbed into your life. I am not asking you to rename her, display her, rescue her, or make her grateful. She has a life. Naomi knows it. Mrs. Bell downstairs knows it. Her teacher knows it. The crossing guard who gives her peppermints knows it. You do not.
But you are her father, and dying has made me less interested in protecting either of us from the truth.
Damian paused again.
The office seemed smaller than it had minutes before. He could smell the cocoa, rain from Naomi’s coat, and the faint lemon polish used on the desk.
You will want proof. Get it. You will want an explanation. You deserve part of one.
I left because I was afraid of the man you were becoming, and because every argument with you ended with someone from your staff waiting outside the door. You never struck me. You never threatened me in the language people recognize as a threat. You only arranged the world until there was no room left for me to say no.
I found out I was pregnant three weeks after I left.
I tried to tell you once in person and twice in writing. One attempt failed because of your family. One failed because of me. The last failed because of you.
Do not blame everyone else before you find out which was which.
Lily needs stability more than she needs a guilty father. Naomi has been her family. If you use your money to tear them apart, I will have made the worst mistake of my life at the very end of it.
If you choose to know Lily, learn her. Do not acquire her.
Eva
Damian read the last line twice.
Naomi did not ask what the letter said. She seemed to know enough of it already.
He folded the page along its original creases. “She said she tried to contact me three times.”
Naomi’s expression did not change. “Yes.”
“How?”
“She didn’t tell me everything. She said you would have to do some of the work yourself.”
A pulse moved in Damian’s temple.
“Was my mother involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“Marlene?”
The banquet captain lowered her gaze.
Damian stood. “What do you know?”
Marlene clasped her hands over her apron. “This is not the time.”
“This may be the only time in eight years when someone in this building tells me the truth without calculating the effect on a quarterly report.”
Lily shrank back against Naomi.
Damian saw it.
His anger disappeared from his face so quickly that its absence became another kind of violence. He sat down again.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Lily. “That was not directed at you.”
“You scared her anyway,” Naomi said.
“Yes.”
The simple admission quieted the room.
Marlene approached the desk. “Mrs. Cross came here seven years ago.”
Damian’s eyes lifted.
“She asked for you. Your father was hosting the winter board dinner. Security said she wasn’t on the list, but I recognized her. She had a baby in a carrier.”
Lily’s fingers stopped against the rabbit.
“Did you see the child?” Damian asked.
“Only the blanket and one little shoe. Yellow. Mrs. Cross asked me not to call anyone yet. She said she wanted five minutes to make herself presentable.”
“Where was I?”
“In this office.”
Damian looked around the room.
“Your mother arrived before I could reach you,” Marlene continued. “She took Mrs. Cross into the smaller salon across the hall. They argued. I couldn’t hear everything. I heard your mother say you had spent a year putting your life back together and that she would not allow Eva to destroy it again.”
“What did Eva say?”
“That the baby was yours.”
The hum beneath the sideboard seemed suddenly loud.
“And then?”
“Mrs. Cross left.”
“You let her?”
Marlene’s face tightened. “I was carrying trays for twelve dollars an hour, Mr. Cross. Your mother owned the hotel. Your father had fired a server that week for taking home food that was going in the trash. I had two boys and a husband recovering from surgery.”
Damian stared at her.
“I told myself Mrs. Cross would contact you another way,” she said. “I told myself it wasn’t my place. I have told myself many things.”
“Did my mother tell me Eva had come?”
“Not in front of me.”
Naomi leaned forward. “Did Evelyn leave anything?”
Marlene hesitated. “An envelope.”
Damian’s voice dropped. “Where is it?”
“I gave it to your mother.”
He stood again, slower this time.
Lily looked up. “Is she still alive?”
“My mother?”
Lily nodded.
May you like
“Yes.”
“Did she know about me?”
