Daniel and Iris arranged their second meeting for the following weekend.
This time, they chose a small park near the café.
Iris wanted somewhere quieter.
She said she wanted to talk without people sitting at the next table.
I agreed to drive her.
She didn't ask me to join them.
I didn't offer.
Before leaving, she checked her bag twice.
She had packed the old photograph.
She also brought the folded letters.
I noticed them.
"Are you taking those?"
She nodded.
"I want to ask him about them."
"That's understandable."
She looked nervous.
"Do you think he'll mind?"
"I don't think so."
We arrived shortly before noon.
Daniel was waiting near a bench.
He stood when he saw Iris.
This time, he smiled more naturally.
"Hello, Iris."
"Hi."
They exchanged a brief hug.
It was the first time I had seen them touch.
Daniel looked surprised.
Then he gently placed one hand on her shoulder.
Iris seemed comfortable.
He looked toward me.
"Hello, Claire."
"Hello, Daniel."
He thanked me for bringing her.
Then he pointed toward the bench.
"I brought something."
Iris looked excited.
"The sweater?"
He smiled.
"Yes."
He reached into a small bag.
Inside was a blue knitted sweater.
It was tiny.
Much smaller than I remembered.
The sleeves were folded inward.
The color had faded slightly.
Iris carefully lifted it.
"Oh."
Daniel watched her.
"I bought it before you were born."
She ran her fingers over the fabric.
"It's so small."
"You were going to be very small to me."
She laughed.
Then she looked at the sweater again.
"Why did you choose blue?"
Daniel smiled.
"Your mother liked blue."
I looked at him.
He remembered.
Iris glanced at me.
"Is that true?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
Daniel continued.
"I thought you might like it too."
Iris held the sweater against herself.
It barely reached her waist.
She laughed again.
Then she became quiet.
"Can I keep it?"
Daniel nodded.
"Of course."
She folded it carefully and placed it back inside the bag.
Then she took out the letters.
Daniel's expression changed when he saw them.
"You still have those?"
I nodded.
"I kept them."
He looked at Iris.
"Did you read everything?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
He looked down.
For a moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then Iris asked him why he had stopped writing.
Daniel took a breath.
"I didn't stop because I stopped caring."
She listened.
"I wrote several times. I called when I could. But after a while, I didn't know whether contacting your mother was making things worse."
Iris looked at the letters.
"Did you think she would answer?"
"At first, yes."
"Then?"
He looked at her.
"Then I began to think that perhaps she wanted me completely out of your life."
I looked away.
I had given him every reason to believe that.
Iris asked whether he had tried again later.
Daniel explained that he had made a few attempts over the years.
He had asked mutual acquaintances whether we were doing well.
But he hadn't wanted to appear at our door unexpectedly.
He said he didn't want Iris growing up watching her parents fight.
Iris looked at him.
"Did you ever think about coming to my school?"
Daniel lowered his eyes.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I didn't know whether you would know who I was. I didn't want to frighten you."
Iris was quiet.
Then she asked whether he had ever seen her photographs.
He shook his head.
"No."
She looked disappointed.
"I wish you had."
"I know."
He didn't make excuses.
He didn't tell her she should understand.
He simply accepted that his absence had hurt her.
After a while, Iris asked about the hospital.
She wanted to know what happened after I asked him to leave.
Daniel looked at me briefly.
Then he answered.
He said he had stood outside the hospital for several minutes.
He had wanted to go back inside.
But he believed I needed space.
He had left with the photograph he had taken earlier.
Iris looked at me.
"You took a picture?"
I shook my head.
"I don't remember."
Daniel smiled sadly.
"I had one photograph. It was taken before you were discharged."
He showed it to her on his phone.
It was a picture of me holding Iris.
The same hospital room.
The same blanket.
But this photograph showed Daniel standing closer.
His hand was resting gently on my shoulder.
I looked at the image.
I had forgotten it existed.
Iris studied it.
"Why didn't you give Mom a copy?"
Daniel looked down.
"I thought she might not want it."
Iris looked at me.
I couldn't answer.
She returned her attention to him.
"Do you have more?"
Daniel nodded.
"A few."
He said he had kept the photograph because it was one of the only memories he had from that day.
Iris looked at the screen again.
Then she asked whether he had any pictures of the blue sweater before she was born.
He laughed.
"Unfortunately, no."
She smiled.
The conversation became easier after that.
They talked about school.
They talked about music.
Daniel asked what kind of food she liked.
Iris told him she loved pasta but couldn't stand mushrooms.
He laughed.
"Your mother used to complain about mushrooms too."
I looked at him.
"That's because they taste terrible."
Iris laughed.
For a moment, we were three people having an ordinary conversation.
Then I remembered how much time had passed.
The moment ended.
Daniel checked his watch.
He had to leave for an appointment.
Iris stood.
Before saying goodbye, she hugged him again.
This time, the hug lasted longer.
He closed his eyes.
I looked away.
When he stepped back, his eyes were wet.
"Thank you for coming."
Iris smiled.
"Thank you for keeping the sweater."
We walked toward the car.
Iris carried the small bag carefully.
Inside was the blue sweater.
Something he had bought before she was born.
Something that had waited seventeen years for the person it belonged to.
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: Iris Began Asking Questions About the Years She Had Lost, and I Finally Understood That Rebuilding a Family Would Require More Than One Apology
I Thought My Daughter Finally Had the Perfect Night, Until Her Prom Date Walked Into Our House With Something to Say
Part 14 of 20
