Chapter 13
I looked toward the window.
"He never seemed afraid."
"Oh, he was afraid."
I turned.
"Of what?"
Daniel smiled sadly.
"Not death. Leaving you."
My eyes filled.
"He told me that the hardest part wasn't knowing he might not have much time. It was knowing he couldn't be there when your daughter was born."
I covered my mouth.
Daniel reached into his jacket.
"There's one more thing."
He handed me a small envelope.
My name was written across it.
Underneath were four words.
For Elizabeth's first birthday.
I stared at it.
"Another letter?"
Daniel nodded.
"Richard gave me several. This is the first."
I laughed and cried at the same time.
"Of course he did."
"That's your father."
I held the envelope carefully.
For a moment, I wanted to open it.
To hear his voice again.
To find out what he wanted to tell my daughter.
But then I looked at the date written on the back.
Elizabeth's first birthday was still two months away.
I smiled.
"No," I whispered. "We'll wait."
That evening, I took Elizabeth into the garden.
The same garden where Dad had taught me to ride a bicycle.
Where Mom had planted lavender.
Where I'd spent countless summer afternoons believing childhood would last forever.
I carried Elizabeth to the rose bushes.
"Your grandfather loved this place," I told her.
She reached toward a yellow rose.
I gently guided her little hand away from the thorns.
"He was a complicated man. He worked too much. He worried too much. And sometimes he thought he could solve every problem with a checkbook."
Elizabeth babbled.
I smiled.
"But he loved us more than anything."
A breeze moved through the trees.
I looked toward the house.
For the first time, it no longer felt like a monument to everything I'd lost.
It felt like home.
Two months later, on Elizabeth's first birthday, the house filled with laughter.
Grace decorated the dining room with sunflowers.
Daniel arrived carrying a toy piano.
Mr. Harlan brought a beautiful collection of children's books, each with a handwritten note inside.
Our neighbors came.
Several foundation staff members stopped by.
Even the elderly gardener who had worked for my father for thirty years arrived with a tiny wooden rocking horse he'd made himself.
Elizabeth loved the wrapping paper more than the presents.
Everyone laughed.
After the cake, I carried her into the study.
Daniel and Grace followed.