So she wrote.
There was one passage Dad asked me to repeat.
I do not need you to apologize for 1967. I wasn’t there as the person I am now. I was only a baby, and babies do not remember paperwork or shame. I had a good childhood. I was loved. I want you to know that before anything else.
Dad bowed his head.
Rebecca ended with a request.
Meet Claire.
Tell her about the garden.
And tell Laura the truth.
She deserves to know where she comes from, even the pieces that hurt.
Afterward we sat quietly.
Claire finally looked through the window.
“So that’s the famous garden.”
Dad wiped his eyes.
“Famous?”
“My mother had pictures.”
“Of this?”
“Grandma sent them.”
I smiled.
“Apparently everyone knew more about my family than I did.”
Claire winced.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m trying to turn it into a joke.”
