“I was devoted to her.” Margaret’s face sharpened. “Do not use the good things you did later to erase what you did before.” David nodded.
“You are right.” She looked almost angrier at his agreement. “I do not want you to be agreeable. I want my daughter back so she can decide what to do with you.”
David had no answer to that. Margaret began crying without changing posture. Tears simply moved down her face while she stared at the wedding photograph. “She trusted you,” she said.
“Even when she was dying, she trusted you to finish raising Megan honestly.” “I failed her.” “Yes.” The word landed cleanly.
David stayed nearly two hours while Margaret asked questions he answered as fully as he could. She wanted to know when it happened, whether Laura had suspected, whether David had loved Sarah, and whether the secret child had ever been physically close to Laura without her knowing. David told her about the soccer tournament when Connor was seven and how Laura had been home that day making soup for a church fundraiser. Margaret closed her eyes at the detail as if proximity itself were an additional offense.
When David finally stood to leave, Margaret surprised him by saying, “I am not cutting you out of the family.” He looked at her, stunned. “Do not misunderstand me,” she continued. “That is not forgiveness.
Megan loves you. You cared for Laura when she was sick. Both things are real. I am too old to start pretending truth is tidy just because I am angry.” She looked at him hard.
“But if you ever ask Megan to get over this for your comfort, you will lose me too.” David promised he would not. He drove from Margaret’s house to the cemetery where Laura was buried. He had avoided going since prom night because grief there had always felt intimate, and now intimacy with Laura’s memory seemed fraudulent.