He had believed that writing everything down made him organized.
Instead, every message became another door closing behind him.
Vanessa accepted a plea agreement that required restitution and counseling.
Before sentencing, she asked to see Dad.
He agreed to meet her in the courthouse garden.
I waited several steps away beneath a tree.
Vanessa looked thinner. Her hair was pulled back without the careful style she had worn when she announced Dad’s death. She carried no handbag, no folder, no phone.
Dad sat on a bench.
She stopped in front of him.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t begin with an excuse.”
She nodded.
“I was jealous of Natalie.”
“I know.”
“I thought you loved her more.”
“I loved you both.”
“I didn’t believe that.”
“You wanted love to be a contest.”
Her mouth trembled.
“I wanted you to need me.”
“I needed you.”
“I wanted you to need only me.”
Dad looked at the empty space beside him.
She sat.
For a long time, they watched leaves move across the path.
“I remember the fair,” she said.
“So do I.”
“You carried me all day.”
“You refused to walk.”
“I said my feet hurt.”
