CHAPTER 12: 12. A Father Calls
Grant called that evening. I nearly let it ring out, then answered with Priya’s advice fresh in my mind. “I’d like to meet the boys,” he said. “Not with cameras or lawyers. Just talk.” “They’ll decide whether they want that,” I told him. “And if they do, we’ll arrange it in a way they’re comfortable with.” He exhaled. “I didn’t know they were so talented.” The sentence cut more deeply than he intended. “You didn’t know they were allergic to strawberries when they were little, either,” I said. “You didn’t know Jonah broke his arm at ten or that Miles used to be terrified of thunderstorms. You don’t get to begin with their medals.” Silence. Then Grant asked whether I had ever told them he loved them. “I told them I couldn’t speak for what you felt,” I said. “I told them they were loved by me.” He started to protest, but I ended the call. I had spent thirteen years being careful with my words about him. I would not start inventing reassuring feelings now that he wanted them attributed to him.
