Then pointed toward my vest.
“Can I try it on?”
I laughed.
“Kid, that thing weighs almost as much as you do.”
He grinned.
“Please?”
I looked toward Claire.
She shrugged.
“Your funeral.”
I removed the vest.
The broken snap caught against my shirt.
I handed it to Ethan.
He slipped his arms inside.
The leather hung almost to his knees.
The patches looked enormous.
He spread his arms proudly.
“Mom! Look!”
Lily began laughing.
Claire pulled out her phone.
“Hold still.”
She took a photograph.
I watched my grandson standing in the middle of the living room wearing my oversized leather vest.
Then I noticed something.
For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about how much I missed Grace.
I was thinking about how much she would have loved seeing that photograph.
The distinction seemed small.
But to me, it felt enormous.
After lunch, Claire and I sat at the kitchen table while the children played nearby.
I gave her the framed photograph.
She stared at it.
Her mother stood in a garden wearing a blue dress, smiling toward the camera.
Claire's lips trembled.
“Dad.”
I swallowed.
“You asked for it a while back.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
I looked down.
“I should've given it to you then.”
For several seconds, she traced the edge of the frame.
Then she looked toward me.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
We sat quietly.
Then Claire asked about Nora.
I told her more than I had during our telephone conversation.
The signs.
The tablet.
The pharmacy clerk.
Daniel's recovery.
And the little girl drawing my beard like a waterfall.
Claire laughed.
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She is.”
I smiled.
“Bossy little thing too.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds familiar.”
I looked at her.
She grinned.
I laughed.
Then I told her I'd started learning sign language.
Her expression changed.
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
She smiled.
“That's great.”
I looked toward my hands.
“I'm terrible at it.”
She laughed.
“Everybody's terrible at something when they start.”
I glanced toward her.
Then spoke more quietly.
“Would you want to learn with me sometime?”
Claire became still.
For a moment, she looked as though she might cry.
Then she nodded.
“Yeah, Dad.”
Her voice softened.
“I'd like that.”
We spent the next half hour watching beginner lessons together.
Ethan wandered over.
Then Lily.
Soon all four of us were attempting simple greetings in the living room.
I made so many mistakes that Ethan nearly fell off the sofa laughing.
Lily corrected my hand position with the seriousness of a tiny teacher.
Claire recorded a short video of us practicing.
At one point, she put down her phone.