“No one uproots their life and buys a house next door for nothing.”
She met his gaze. “Then honesty. Maybe forgiveness someday. A chance to know Lily if you allow it. And…” Her eyes drifted toward the living room, where Emma’s knitted blanket was thrown over the couch. “A chance to love what she loved before I run out of time too.”
The statement was simple enough that Daniel believed it.
That did not make it easy.
At noon, he worked on a minivan’s brakes while Nora sorted boxes in the house next door. At three, he picked Lily up from school. At five-thirty, Lily set three places at the table without being asked.
When Nora came over, she brought lasagna.
Daniel nearly laughed when he saw it.
“It was your mother’s recipe,” Nora told Lily. “At least I hope it still is. Emma changed the cheese ratio once when we were teenagers and acted like she’d discovered fire.”
Lily’s mouth fell open. “Mom did that with everything.”
“I know.”
That first dinner should have been awkward.
In many ways, it was.
There were silences too long to ignore. Questions Daniel refused to answer because he did not yet know how. Moments when Lily smiled at something Nora said and Daniel felt both warmed and betrayed by his own relief. Grief is territorial that way. It resents new footsteps even when they belong to family.
But by the end of the meal, Lily had dragged out a photo album, and Nora was naming childhood versions of Emma Daniel had never seen.
“She once tried to teach our goldfish to follow commands,” Nora said.
Daniel leaned back in his chair. “That sounds exactly right.”
“She clicked her tongue three times before every feeding and then told everyone she was building discipline.”
Lily giggled. “Did it work?”
“Only on Emma.”
By eight-thirty, Lily had fallen asleep on the couch with her head against Nora’s arm.
Daniel stood in the doorway and watched them.
Nora looked up. “I can move.”
“No,” he said quietly. “She’s okay.”
For a minute neither spoke.
Then Nora said, “You were good to her.”
Daniel looked at his daughter. “To Lily?”
“To Emma.”
He swallowed. “I loved her.”
“I know.”