“This was where I came to mourn you,” I said.
Shaun touched the watch on his wrist. “What happens now?”
“Now I stop grieving people who are standing beside me.”
***
Back at the house, Aria touched the stitches in the mattress.
“I thought that seam ruined us.”
“No. Adults did that.”
Shaun lifted one end.
“What happens now?”
“Then let’s get rid of it.”
Inside, I opened Aria’s dollhouse. Its door still hung crooked.
I reached for my screwdriver.
Aria stopped me.
“It doesn’t have to be fixed tonight, Dad.”
Shaun picked up the other tool.
“And you don’t have to fix it alone.”
“Then let’s get rid of it.”
***
For 40 years, I had waited for the children I lost.
Aria and Shaun returned carrying anger, guilt, and lost time.
I looked at them and put the screwdriver down.
This time, we would rebuild together.
