Later that afternoon, Wade and I sat in the hospital courtyard.
The weather was mild, and a few leaves moved gently across the paved path. The same wooden bench stood beneath the tree where I had found him crying months earlier.
He held Lily's little red car in one hand.
I looked at it.
"You're thinking about her."
Wade nodded.
"Always."
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "I'm happy."
I smiled.
"Me too."
He looked toward the hospital.
"Really happy."
I nodded.
Wade rubbed his thumb across the chipped paint.
"Part of me feels guilty."
I turned toward him.
"Why?"
He swallowed.
"Because I know what today means. I know how much you've wanted to hear those words."
He looked down.
"And I keep thinking about how badly I wanted to hear them about Lily."
My chest tightened.
I waited.
Wade continued.
"I watched her doctors do everything they could. I listened to every update. I kept hoping the next test would be different."
His voice trembled.
"But it wasn't."
I looked toward the red car.
He continued.
"Then today, I heard Eli's doctor say remission, and I was happier than I've been in years."
He wiped his face.
"And for a second, it felt wrong."
I shook my head gently.
"Wade, you didn't take anything away from Lily by being happy for Eli."
He looked at me.
I continued.
"You can miss your daughter and celebrate another child. Both things can be true."
He stared at the car.
For several seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he nodded.
"I've been trying to learn that."
I smiled sadly.
"So have I."
Wade looked toward me.
I took a breath.
"I've spent so long being afraid that I sometimes feel guilty when I'm happy. Like letting myself enjoy a good day means I'm not taking the illness seriously enough."
The biker nodded.
"Yeah."
I looked toward the hospital windows.
"But Eli doesn't spend every minute worrying about tomorrow."
Wade smiled.
"No. He spends most of them worrying about that blue car winning."
I laughed.
"Exactly."
We sat quietly.
Then I looked at the red car.
"Do you think Lily would have liked him?"
Wade laughed softly.
"Oh, she'd have loved him."
I smiled.
"Really?"
"She would've cheated in every race."
I laughed.
"Eli would have argued with her."
Wade grinned.
"Then she'd have argued back."
For a moment, we could almost see it.
Two children sitting on the floor.
A blue car.
A red car.
A race neither one would agree to lose.
Then Wade looked down.