“She got a job on campus,” David told me.
“For the entire summer?”
“She probably needs the money, Al. Don’t guilt her.”
So I didn’t.
Year after year, I told myself I was respecting her boundaries.
Meanwhile, there were things I noticed but chose not to question.
David always checked the mail.
Every single day.
Rain or shine.
Even when he was sick.
Once, a Christmas card arrived from one of Chloe’s college roommates.
The envelope had already been opened.
David said the mail carrier must have damaged it.
I believed him.
Another time, shortly before Chloe left for college, I heard the two of them arguing loudly in the garage.
Chloe was crying.
I distinctly heard her say,
“That’s not fair.”
When I asked David about it, he told me they were arguing about her grades.
Later he said it had something to do with changing majors.
I should have noticed the story had changed.
I didn’t.
His phone often buzzed late at night.
Whenever it did, he turned the screen away.
“Spam,” he would say.
Or, “My brother.”
I never checked.
Love can make you trusting.
Guilt can make you even more so.
And I had plenty of both.
Now, twelve years later, I sat on the living room floor staring at a box from Chloe while my husband stood behind me looking terrified.
I slid my finger underneath the tape.
“Alice,” David said again. “Please.”
This time, I ignored him.
But to understand why that box mattered so much, you also need to understand the birthdays.
Thirteen of them.
When Chloe turned eighteen, I bought her a delicate gold necklace with a tiny star pendant.
She used to doodle stars in the corners of her notebooks.
I wrapped it myself.
Took it to the post office.
And waited.
Two weeks later, the package came back.
RETURN TO SENDER.
I cried quietly in the laundry room so David wouldn’t hear me.
When Chloe turned twenty-one, I bought her a soft leather handbag.
I imagined her carrying it to her first serious job interview.
That came back too.
At twenty-five, I sent her a cookbook.
She used to love baking.
I remembered the cookies we once made together.
Banana bread.
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