“I will pay you actual money to destroy those notes.”
“Not a chance. These are historical documents.”
“They're embarrassing.”
“Same thing.”
Michael opened a photo album. “Look at Chris’s baby pictures.”
“Let me see, hold it up to the phone,” Beth said.
Michael held the photo album in front of the phone’s camera, and Beth laughed. “Oh my goodness. Look at those cheeks.”
“He was a fat baby,” Sarah said. “The fattest baby.”
“I was not fat. I was robust.”
“You were so fat Mom had to buy you special diapers.”
“That's not true.”
“It's absolutely true. Mom, tell him.”
Maggie looked up from the box she was sorting through—old tax returns, definitely going in the trash pile. “You were a healthy baby, Chris. Very healthy.”
“See?” Sarah said. “Fat.”
“Healthy and fat are not the same thing.”
“In baby terms, they're exactly the same thing.”
On the phone, Beth was laughing, and even Emily had a smile on her face. “He was a fat baby,” Beth confirmed. “I remember. His thighs had rolls.”
“My thighs were magnificent.”
“Your thighs were hilarious.”
Becca appeared at the top of the stairs. “Ellie is asleep. Mind if I join you all?”
“Not at all. Come and see what a handsome baby your husband was.”
Becca sat on the floor next to Christopher.
Michael flipped through more photos, his expression shifting from amused to something softer. “Look at this one. Chris, you must be about four here. You're wearing a tiny suit.”
“That was for Grandpa's funeral,” Maggie said, the memory surfacing unexpectedly. “Daniel's father. Chris insisted on wearing a tie like the grown-ups.”
“He couldn't tie it himself,” Michael added. “So Dad tied it for him, and then Chris walked around all day making sure the tie was straight. Wouldn't let anyone touch it.”
“I remember that tie,” Christopher said quietly. “It was blue with little red stripes. Dad said it was his lucky tie and he was letting me borrow it.”
The attic went quiet for a moment. Daniel's shadow fell acrossso many of these memories, present in the photos, present in the stories, present in the objects they were sorting through. He had been a father to these children long before he had been a cheater and a liar. He had tied Christopher's tie and taught Michael to throw a baseball and walked Lauren down the aisle at her wedding.
The complicated truth of Daniel Wheeler hung in the air, unspoken but acknowledged.
“Anyway,” Lauren said briskly, breaking the silence, “Becca, you should know that Christopher also went through a phase where he only answered to the name 'Turbo.'”
Becca's eyebrows shot up. “Turbo?”
