“But we couldn’t.”
Grace smiled sadly.
“No. We couldn’t. Not really.”
That was the first time I had ever heard her admit it.
“I made choices because I was scared, Caleb. Sometimes scared people call it independence because independence sounds stronger.”
I sat beside her.
“Do you regret saying no?”
She considered the question for a long time.
“Sometimes.”
The next Saturday, Arthur showed me an old photograph.
We were cleaning shelves in the greenhouse when he found a box behind several gardening books.
The photograph showed Arthur standing beside a group of employees in front of a fleet of blue trucks.
He was younger, with dark hair and no cane.
Near the end of the row stood my father.
I recognized him immediately.
Dad looked thinner than I remembered, but his smile was the same.
Arthur sat down.
“He was thirty-one there.”
“How old were you?”
“Forty-eight.”
