Upstairs, we explained that Adam’s father was waiting below.
“Your biological grandfather,” I said. “His name is Robert.”
Inside the envelope was an old photograph of Robert standing beside ten-year-old Adam. Lily touched her father’s face.
“He has my eyes.”
“Does Robert want to meet me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to meet him?”
“I want you to choose.”
Lily turned to Tony.
“Did you bring him here?”
Tony nodded.
“I should have told your mom.”
“Is he nice?”
“I think so,” Tony said. “But you don’t owe him anything.”
Lily looked at the photograph again.
“I want to see him.”
Robert entered carrying only a small wooden music box.
“This belonged to your father,” he said.
A gentle tune played when Lily opened it.
“What was Dad like when he was ten?”
Robert smiled through tears.
“He loved pancakes, hated tying his shoes, and once tried to keep a frog in the bathtub.”
Lily laughed.
“What happened?”
“Your grandmother screamed. The frog escaped and ended up in her laundry basket.”
That ordinary story meant more than any grand apology.
Then Lily asked to return to the ocean.
After Dr. Patel confirmed Lily was stable enough for one more day, Robert changed our flights and extended the hotel stay.
At the beach, Robert walked on one side of Lily’s chair while Tony walked on the other. Together, they rolled her toward the water.
A small wave finally reached her feet.
Lily gasped, then laughed.
“It’s cold!”
Robert laughed with her. Tony crouched beside the chair and wiped his eyes.
Later, while Lily rested beneath an umbrella, I spoke to Robert.
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