Daniel pulled out a chair.
"Yes."
Lucy became quiet.
He sat.
"I do like her."
She considered that.
"How much?"
He laughed softly.
"I haven't measured it."
"Dad."
"Lucy."
She rolled her eyes.
Then sat opposite him.
"Are you going to marry her?"
Daniel almost choked.
"Sweetheart, I've known her for only a few weeks."
"People on television get married after three dates."
"People on television also survive explosions by jumping into rivers. Neither is a good model for everyday life."
Lucy smiled.
Then looked down.
For a while, she played with the strap of her camera.
Daniel noticed.
"What's worrying you?"
She shrugged.
"Nothing."
He waited.
Finally, she whispered, "Would you stop talking about Mom?"
Daniel felt something tighten in his chest.
He reached across the table.
"Lucy."
She looked up.
"No."
Her eyes filled.
"I mean it. Your mother is part of our family. That doesn't change because I enjoy somebody else's company."
Lucy swallowed.
"But if you married someone—"
"We haven't even discussed that."
"I know."
She rubbed her eyes.
"I just don't want things to disappear."
Daniel moved his chair closer.
"Come here."
She leaned into him.
He wrapped his arms around her.
"I don't want that either."
For several minutes, he held her.
Then Lucy whispered, "Nora seems nice."
Daniel smiled.
"She is."
"And she looked at my photographs."
"All seven hundred?"
Lucy laughed through tears.
"Only forty-eight."
"Very restrained."
She drew back.
Then looked toward him.
"If you do go on a date, you should wear your blue shirt."
Daniel stared.
"The one from the wedding?"
"No, Dad. The nice one."
He laughed.
"Glad we cleared that up."
Lucy smiled.
Then glanced toward the oven.
"Also, maybe don't cook."
Daniel looked at the blackened garlic bread.
"An excellent suggestion."
Nora did not sleep that night.
She sat in the old Whitfield house with the lights dimmed, looking through a collection of photographs recovered from her father's belongings.
Some were ordinary family pictures.
Her mother standing beneath the maple tree.
Her father holding a newspaper.
Nora at ten, smiling beside a birthday cake.
Others were older.
The family at the lake.
A Fourth of July parade.
The summer fair.
She studied every photograph, hoping for something she could show Daniel.
Then, near the bottom of a faded cardboard box, she found a small envelope.