Daniel said:
“I don’t know.”
Wrong answer.
Truthful answer.
She moved into the guest room for several months.
Their daughter, Claire, twenty-two, was furious.
She had grown up hearing vague stories about “Cousin Rachel who had problems.”
Never Ethan.
She told her father:
“You taught me family takes care of family.”
Daniel said:
“I know.”
She replied:
“No. You taught me the slogan.”
That one hurt him.
It should have.
Ethan eventually opened Daniel’s letter.
Then agreed to one meeting.
Neutral office.
No family crowd.
I was not there.
Later Ethan told me only the part he wanted me to know.
He asked Daniel:
“Why didn’t you look for me once you knew Grandpa might be lying?”
Daniel answered:
“Because every year I waited made the truth more expensive.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Year one:
Admit mistake.
Year five:
Admit cowardice.
Year ten:
Admit an entire childhood passed.
Year twenty: