The Crate in the Parking Lot
And there was a plate of glass in it and both of us knew it and neither of us said anything until the following March, when she came down on a Saturday on her own and we sat on the porch for four hours.
I apologized properly for the first time in my life, which meant not explaining anything.
That took about three attempts because I kept sliding into 2012 and the legal pad, and each time she said, “Dad,” and I stopped and started again.
What I eventually got to was: I made a decision that was yours and Teddy’s and Bea’s, and I made it alone, and then I kept the most important fact about it from you for twelve years, and the reason I kept it was that it made me look better, and I have never been able to say that until now.
And she said, “Okay.”
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