Noah nodded.
“I hope so.”
Then he reached into his pocket.
“There is one more thing.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“Noah.”
“It’s not expensive.”
He unfolded a piece of paper.
It was a photograph taken at the wedding.
Not the terrible moment beside the garden hose.
Not the guests staring.
Not Claire’s expression.
It was a photograph taken later, after the crowd had disappeared.
A staff member had captured Noah sitting beside Margaret near the fireplace.
His head rested against her shoulder.
Her hand was gently placed over his.
Neither of them had known the picture was being taken.
Margaret studied it.
Her lips trembled.
“You kept this?”
Noah nodded.
“I thought I had lost the whole day.”
He swallowed.
“But when I found this picture, I realized that was the day I finally found my way back to you.”
Margaret held the photograph against her chest.
Then she looked toward the kitchen window.
Snow was falling softly beyond the glass.
For years, she had imagined what it would feel like to see her son again.
She had imagined a grand reunion.
An apology.
