Daniel stared at the pink dress.
Then he carefully returned it to the bag.
"You're right."
I looked at him.
"And whatever you decide about your marriage, make sure Lily has support from someone qualified to help her understand what's happened."
He nodded.
"I've already contacted a counselor."
I felt relief.
"Good."
Daniel looked toward Claire's photograph.
Then he whispered, "I wish she were here."
My eyes filled.
"So do I."
For a long time, we sat quietly.
Two people who had spent years grieving the same woman.
Two people who had nearly allowed that grief to turn them against each other.
And two people who were finally beginning to remember that Lily needed us on the same side.
The confrontation with Vanessa happened three days later.
I hadn't intended to be present.
Daniel had told me he wanted to speak with her privately, and I agreed that their marriage was something they needed to address without an audience. But that Friday afternoon, he called and asked whether I could come over because Lily wanted to show me her new dress.
I hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
He sounded tired.
"I've already told Vanessa we need to talk. She's been avoiding it. I don't want Lily thinking your visits are something to hide."
I nodded.
"All right."
When I arrived, Daniel was still at work, finishing an unexpected meeting before coming home. He had told Vanessa I was coming and planned to join us shortly afterward.
Vanessa opened the door.
Her smile was strained.
"Margaret."
"Hello."
She looked toward my car.
"Daniel isn't here yet."
"I know."
She stepped aside.
"Come in."
The house looked as immaculate as ever.
The flowers were fresh.
The floors were polished.
A faint scent of expensive candles filled the hallway.
But the atmosphere had changed.
Vanessa seemed restless.
Her eyes followed me as I removed my coat, and she asked twice whether I wanted coffee.
I declined.
"I'd like to see Lily."
Vanessa looked toward the stairs.
"She's upstairs."
I smiled.
"I'll go say hello."
Before I could move, Lily appeared at the top of the staircase.
"Grandma!"
My heart lifted.
She hurried down carefully, holding something against her chest.
The pink dress.
She wasn't wearing it yet.
She carried it in both hands, its sparkling skirt spilling over her arms.