"Yes."
"Was he friends with him?"
A long silence followed.
Then the widow answered, carefully, "A long time ago."
The little girl considered.
"Then maybe he can tell me stories."
Her mother had looked away.
"Maybe."
The child continued eating.
But the question remained long after supper ended.
Now, in the pale light of morning, the widow heard her daughter opening a cupboard.
She rose.
Pulled on her cardigan.
And walked toward the kitchen.
The girl stood beside the counter, holding a box of cereal with both hands.
"Mommy!"
She smiled.
"Good morning."
The child looked excited.
"Can we have cereal?"
Her mother glanced toward the table.
A full carton of milk rested beside two bowls.
For a moment, something ordinary nearly made her cry.
Milk.
Cereal.
Breakfast.
Things she used to purchase without thinking.
She nodded.
"Of course."
The girl poured carefully, spilling only a little.
Her mother sat beside her.
They ate together.
The child swung her feet beneath the chair.
After several minutes, she looked up.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Did Daddy know I was going to be born?"
The widow stopped moving.
The question came so unexpectedly that she almost dropped her spoon.
She looked at her daughter.
The child waited.
Her mother took a slow breath.
"No, sweetheart."
The little girl's expression changed.
"He didn't?"
"No."
"Why?"
Her mother swallowed.
"Because he died before I found out you were coming."
The girl looked down at her cereal.
For a while, she seemed to be thinking.
Then she asked, "Would he have liked me?"
The widow felt her heart break all over again.
She moved her chair closer.
"Oh, baby."
The little girl looked up.
Her mother gently touched her cheek.
"He would have loved you so much."
The child studied her.
"How do you know?"
The woman smiled through sudden tears.
"Because he had the biggest heart of anyone I ever knew."
She took her daughter's hand.
"And because you laugh exactly like he did."
The girl smiled faintly.
"Really?"
"Really."
She considered.
Then whispered, "I wish he could see my bike."
The widow looked toward the front window.