Chapter 14 - Sarah’s Final Letter
Nathan opened the letter at Grace’s kitchen table.
By then, Grace and Lily had moved into a modest house twelve minutes from the Cole estate.
Nathan offered to buy it.
Grace refused.
He paid half the rent only after Grace agreed it represented Lily’s share.
Their arrangement had become a series of negotiations.
School pickups.
Weekends.
Pediatric appointments.
Bedtimes.
Nathan wanted to give Lily everything.
Grace repeatedly explained that everything was not the same as what she needed.
“She does not need a pony.”
“She likes horses.”
“She saw one horse.”
“She smiled.”
“She smiles at garbage trucks.”
Nathan had actually considered buying a garbage truck after that.
Grace stopped him.
Slowly, they learned how to become something neither had expected.
Family.
Not romantic.
Not conventional.
But real.
Sarah’s final letter began:
Nathan,
If Grace gives you this, then either I finally found the courage to tell you everything or I ran out of time.
Nathan had to stop.
Grace sat across from him.
“Keep going.”
He did.
I spent years angry at you.
Some days I hated you.
Then I found out the letter wasn’t yours.
I wish I could say all the anger disappeared.
It didn’t.
Life is more complicated than that.
But I remembered the man I knew.
The man who once drove three hours because I told him I was afraid to attend my father’s funeral alone.
The man who remembered I hated strawberries but loved strawberry ice cream.
The man who wanted children someday and said he was terrified he would work too much and miss them growing up.
Nathan laughed through tears.
Grace smiled.
“That sounds like her.”
He continued.
Lily has your eyes.
She also has your stubbornness, although I would like official credit for at least half of it.
Nathan laughed again.
If you become part of her life, please do not try to compensate for lost time by giving her everything she asks for.
Grace looked pointedly at Nathan.
He sighed.
“She planned this.”
Grace laughed.
Nathan continued.
She needs someone who shows up.
That is harder than buying things.
Show up when she is boring.
Show up when she is angry.
Show up when she fails.
Show up when she says she hates you.
Show up when she thinks she doesn’t need you.
If you can do that, she will know you love her.
And Nathan, please do something for me.
Do not turn what happened to me into the center of her life.
I want Lily to know me.
I do not want her to become my tragedy.
Tell her I danced badly.
Tell her I burned pancakes.
Tell her I sang too loudly in the car.
Tell her I once got locked out of our apartment wearing Christmas pajamas.
Grace covered her face, laughing and crying at once.
Nathan smiled.
Tell her I was alive.
Not only that I died.
Nathan stopped again.
The final paragraph was shorter.
And forgive yourself eventually.
Not today.
Maybe not soon.
But eventually.
If Victoria really kept us apart, then she already stole enough years.
Do not give her the rest of them.
Love Sarah.
Nathan folded the letter.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Grace finally asked, “Can you do it?”
“What?”
“Forgive yourself.”
Nathan looked toward the living room.
Lily was lying on the carpet drawing.
“I don’t know.”
Grace nodded.
“That’s more believable than yes.”
Nathan smiled faintly.
Lily suddenly ran into the kitchen.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“My school has Family Day.”
Nathan became alert.
“When?”
“Friday.”
“I’ll be there.”
Grace raised a finger.
“You have a board hearing Friday.”
Nathan looked at her.
“How do you know that?”
“Michael called.”
Nathan sighed.
Lily looked worried.
“You can’t come?”
Nathan crouched.
“What time is Family Day?”
“Ten.”
The shareholder hearing began at nine.
Nathan could attend both only if the meeting ended within thirty minutes.
It would not.
Grace watched him.
This was the kind of choice Sarah had written about.
Nathan took out his phone.
He called Michael.
“I won’t be at the hearing Friday.”
Michael’s voice could be heard shouting through the phone.
Nathan held it away.
“Yes, I understand.”
More shouting.
“No.”
More shouting.
“I know how much money is involved.”
Nathan looked at Lily.
“I have somewhere else to be.”
He ended the call.
Lily smiled.
Grace shook her head.
“You might lose your company.”
Nathan looked at her.
“I’ve been told garbage trucks are a promising industry.”
Grace laughed so hard she nearly dropped her coffee.
On Friday at 9:58 a.m., Nathan walked into Lily’s preschool gymnasium.
He wore a navy suit because he still had business meetings later.
Lily saw him.
Her entire face lit up.
“Daddy!”
She ran.
Nathan caught her.
Nothing in his career had ever felt like that.
Not the first million.
Not the first acquisition.
Not the magazine covers.
Not the mansion.
A four-year-old girl wrapping her arms around his neck had reduced all of it to background noise.
Grace stood nearby.
“You made it.”
“I said I would.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Nathan looked at Lily.
Sarah’s words returned.
Show up.
So he did.
Again.
May you like
And again.
And again.
