Made promises and broke them.
Loved imperfectly.
Dean had chosen perfect memory over messy present for one night.
He hated that.
At seven, Clare's phone rang.
She answered immediately.
"Hi."
Dean said:
"I was wrong."
Silence.
Then:
"Good morning to you too."
"I mean it."
"I know."
"I made Anna into a standard nobody could meet."
Clare exhaled.
"Thank you."
"I don't want to do that."
"I don't want you to erase her."
"I won't."
"Good."
Dean continued.
"And I don't think you're leaving."
Clare swallowed.
"Good."
"I think I'm scared."
"So am I."
He smiled though she could not see.
"Tomorrow?"
She understood.
"Tomorrow."
Two days later Clare drove to Vermont.
She took Evan for hot chocolate.
Alone.
Dean pretended not to worry.
Evan returned carrying a model rocket.
Dean stared at Clare.
She shrugged.
"Bribery."
Evan whispered:
"It worked."
Trust grew.
Slowly.
Properly.
Three months later, Evan asked Clare if she would attend his mother's memorial day with them.
Clare did not answer immediately.
She looked at Dean.
His face showed surprise.
Every year on Anna's birthday, Dean and Evan visited a lake outside town where Anna liked to swim.
They brought flowers.
Ate sandwiches.
Told stories.
Not funeral ritual.
Life ritual.
Clare had assumed she would stay away.
Evan asked again.
"You can come."
Dean said softly, "You don't have to."
Clare looked at Evan.
"Do you want me there?"
He nodded.
"Then yes."
The morning was cold.
They walked to the shore.
Evan carried yellow flowers.
Dean carried coffee.
Clare carried nothing.
She had not known what to bring.
At the water, Evan placed flowers.
Dean told a story about Anna setting a kitchen towel on fire while attempting pancakes.
Evan laughed.
Clare did too.
Then Evan told Clare:
"Mom would have liked you."
Dean looked at him sharply.
Clare froze.
"How do you know?"
Evan shrugged.
"She liked people Dad argued with."
Dean laughed despite himself.
"That is true."
Evan continued.
"She said Dad needs people who tell him when he's being stupid."
Clare looked at Dean.
"I feel called."
"You should."
Then Evan ran toward shoreline.
Clare stood beside Dean.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"More than I thought."
Clare touched his hand.
Dean looked toward flowers.
"I used to think bringing you here would be disrespectful."
"And now?"
"I think Anna would call me an idiot."
Clare smiled.
"She sounds wise."
"Terrifying."
"Impressive?"
Dean looked at her.
She had stolen Evan's phrase.
He laughed.
Then he kissed her forehead.
No guilt.
Not none forever.
Enough.
Clare's Vermont project ended in spring.
This time departure did not mean disappearance.
They made schedules.
Bad ones.
Adjusted.
Clare took fewer Boston nights.
Dean expanded mobile work toward southern routes.
Evan learned train timetables.
By summer, Clare began searching for a small office in Burlington.