“Yes.”
“And you opened that wall because you thought there might be something Dad had left for me.”
Brian looked down.
“Yes.”
“You wanted to find it before I did.”
“In case it was difficult.”
“You thought you
could make it easier.”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious, Brian.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to protect me by deciding what information I’m allowed to have.”
“I understand.”
“So next time?”
“I tell you.”
“Even if you think it will upset me.”
“Especially then.”
I nodded.
“And you’re fixing that wall.”
He almost smiled.
“Tomorrow.”
Later, I went upstairs to Maddie’s room.
She was sitting at her desk with homework open in front of her.
She clearly hadn’t done any of it.
“Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find out what Dad was looking for?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“Letters.”
“From who?”
“Your grandfather.”
She became quiet.
“The grandfather I never met?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Things he couldn’t say while he was alive.”
Maddie thought about that.
“That’s sad.”
“Yes.”
Then she tilted her head.
“But also kind of good?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
“Both?”
“Both.”
She waited.
“Was Dad wrong not to tell you?”
“Yes.”
“But he thought he was helping.”
“Yes.”
“What should he have done?”
“Told me.”
“Even if the truth might make you upset?”
“Especially then.”
Maddie looked thoughtful.
“That’s what I did.”
“Yes.”
“I told you even though Dad asked me not to.”
“Yes.”
“Because keeping it secret felt worse.”
“Yes.”
She smiled slightly.
“Then I did the right thing.”
“You did.”
“Even though it was hard.”
“Especially because it was hard.”
Then she asked,
“Did Grandpa write about me?”
“He did.”
Her eyes widened.
“What did he say?”
“That you would pay attention to things.”
She grinned.
“He knew that before I was born?”
“Yes.”
“Was he right?”
“Very.”
She looked around the room.
“So he’s kind of still here.”
“In a way.”
“In the house?”
“Yes.”
“In the walls?”
I laughed.
“In the walls.”
She considered that.
“People leave things behind even after they’re gone.”
