Arthur had written, When I was young, I thought a legacy was what remained after the bills were paid.

I am old enough to know it is what people do when nobody is watching.

Maya considered that for a long time.

“He always remembered my school plays,” she said.

“Even when you couldn’t make it because of work.”

I remembered the first performance she’d ever invited him to.

He arrived wearing a suit that smelled faintly of mothballs and clapped louder than anybody when Maya crossed the stage holding a cardboard sun.

Later he told her that important roles were not measured by how long you stood in the light.