Stephanie arrived on a Wednesday afternoon.
She came alone.
I opened the door and found her holding a small gift bag.
She hugged me.
Then she looked toward the kitchen.
"Is Kayla home?"
I told her Kayla had taken the boys to school.
Danny was working.
Stephanie nodded.
She seemed nervous.
I invited her to sit.
She placed the gift bag on the table.
Inside was a soft cardigan.
It was a color I liked.
She said she had seen it in a shop and thought of me.
I thanked her.
Then she sat down.
For a few minutes, we talked about ordinary things.
The weather.
The boys.
Her children's school activities.
Then she became quiet.
"Mom, I wanted to talk about Thanksgiving."
I looked at her.
"All right."
She took a breath.
"I've been thinking about what happened."
I waited.
She said she had been embarrassed by the letter.
Not because of what her father wrote.
Because she knew he had seen something in her that she had not wanted to acknowledge.
She admitted that when I called her, she had been thinking about her own schedule.
She had been thinking about the inconvenience of having another person in the house.
She said she hadn't stopped to imagine how frightening it must have been for me.
I listened.
Then she started crying.
This time, I didn't immediately reach for her.
I wanted her to finish.
"I should have asked you to come."
I nodded.
"Yes."
She wiped her face.
"I know."
I asked whether she had spoken to her husband about it.
She said she had.
He had also told her she should have made room.
She explained that they had discussed how easily they could have rearranged things.
The guest room was available.
The children could have shared.
There were options.
She had simply not wanted to deal with them.
I looked at my daughter.
She was no longer the little girl who used to hold my hand while crossing the street.
She was an adult.
And she was finally acknowledging something she had done wrong.
I told her I appreciated the apology.
She reached for my hand.
Then she asked about the watch.
I looked at her.
There it was.
The question I had been expecting.
She quickly explained that she wasn't asking because it was valuable.
She said she wanted something that reminded her of her father.
I asked why she had mentioned it during the first call after I moved into Danny's apartment.
She looked down.
"I don't know."
I waited.
She finally admitted that she had been thinking about the estate.
She wondered what her father had left behind.
She wanted to know whether there were valuable family possessions.
I didn't say anything.
She looked ashamed.
"I know how that sounds."
I nodded.
She continued.
"I wasn't thinking clearly. I was worried about money. I had expenses, and I was wondering what Dad had arranged."
I asked whether she had been worried about me.
She began crying again.
"Yes, Mom. I was. But I didn't act like it."
That was the most honest thing she had said.
I reached for her hand.
I told her the watch was safe.
I said she could see it.
But I wasn't ready to give it away.
She nodded.
"I understand."
I stood up and went into the bedroom.
The watch was stored in a small wooden box.
Walt had kept it there for years.
I brought it to the table.
Stephanie opened the lid.
She stared at the watch.
It was an old-fashioned piece.
The leather strap was worn.
The metal casing had small scratches.
It wasn't the sort of thing people would buy to impress anyone.
But it had belonged to her father.
She touched it carefully.
"He wore this at my wedding."
I nodded.
"He did."
She smiled through her tears.
"Do you remember when he kept checking the time because he was nervous?"
I laughed.
"He was more nervous than you were."
She laughed too.
For a few minutes, we remembered him.
Not the money.
Not the estate.
Just Walt.
The man who used to bring home flowers when he had done something wrong.
The man who taught Michael to drive.
The man who repaired Stephanie's bicycle.
The man who spent hours helping Danny learn how to fix an engine.
Stephanie closed the wooden box.
"Could I borrow it for a little while?"
I thought about it.
Then I nodded.
"Yes. But bring it back."
She promised.
Before she left, she hugged me.
She said she wanted to visit more often.
I told her she could.
She looked around the apartment.
Then she asked whether Danny and Kayla needed anything.
I said they were managing.
She offered to bring groceries next time.
I thanked her.
After she left, I sat at the kitchen table.
I looked at the empty space where the watch box had been.
I wondered whether I had made the right decision.
Then I remembered that Walt would have wanted his children to share his memories.
The watch was not a prize.
It was a reminder.
That evening, Danny came home.
He asked whether Stephanie had visited.
I told him she had.
He smiled.
"Good."
I told him she had borrowed Dad's watch.
He nodded.
"She loved that watch."
I smiled.
"She did."
Then he asked whether I wanted dinner.
I said yes.
He went into the kitchen.
And I realized that something small had changed.
Stephanie had visited without asking about the money first.
She had apologized.
She had remembered her father.
It wasn't enough to repair everything.
But it was a beginning.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: The New Sofa Arrived at Danny’s Apartment, but the Greatest Change Was Something None of Us Could Have Purchased
My Husband Left Me With One Secret, and I Never Imagined My Three Children Would Give Me Three Completely Different Answers
Part 11 of 20
