For Lucy

“It was the perfect time. Really. I was just kidding you. I told myself a while back that if or whenever you decided to tell her, it would be the right time for you, and that’s all that mattered. I know it, and in time, your mom will know it too.”

“What did she say to you? I know she must have called you.”

“She met me at work. She was sitting on the tailgate to my truck.”

“Was she mad?”

“Hurt.” I take a bite of pizza and mumble, “And a little mad. But I know her anger was because of the pain.”

“So I made things worse between you two?”

I shake my head and take a drink of root beer. “We’re divorced. She’s marrying Josh. You’re almost eighteen. What can she do at this point?”

“But what did you say?”

“The truth. I told her it wasn’t your fault, even if it was technically on your watch. It was our fault for not having a protective cover over the pool, or cameras, or some sort of alarm. We naively thought we’d always keep a close eye on him. We naively thought the fence would be enough, in spite of watching him climb everything. And honestly, we blinked. There were times that he headed toward the door to go outside while I was working in the garage and I had to chase him, pulling him off the fence as he reached the top in a matter of seconds. There were times when I saw your mom chasing him because he snuck out while she was making dinner.

“We blinked too, Lucy. And that’s all it takes. One blink and thirty seconds. It takes thirty seconds for a child his age to drown. That’s it. We allowed this to happen. And the really awful part? We put you in the terrible position to be the one who blinked at the wrong time. So yeah …” I swallow past some residual emotion and clear my throat. “Today it felt raw again. Today your mom and I faced the real truth.”

“But Mom is still mad … at you?”

“She’s grieving again through a different light. She’s grieving the loss of Austin all over again, and I think she’s grieving the loss of our marriage and our family. She needs time. So we give her time.”

“What if she never forgives you for lying to her?”

“Then that’s sad for her, isn’t it? We forgive other people for our own sense of sanity and peace. I’ve never asked for her forgiveness, and I never will.”

“So we’re not supposed to say we’re sorry when we do something wrong?”

“Sorry isn’t the same thing as asking for forgiveness. When you accidentally bump into someone, do you say, ‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me?’ Or do you simply say you’re sorry?”

She grins. “Good point.”

“So did you say you’re sorry?”

“No. I’m not sorry for lying. I would do it again because I love you more, Lucy. I’m sorry and regretful that it happened at all. I’m sorry we didn’t do more to be responsible parents and pool owners. I have lots of sorries to give, but protecting you is not one of them. Don’t apologize unless you mean it, unless it’s something you would take back. Otherwise, you’re just being insincere.”

She reaches across the table and rests her hand on mine. “I want to be you when I grow up.”

That makes me cry.

I don’t see Tatum for nearly a month. It’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing her since Lucy’s accident. She manages to pick Lucy up for therapy and drop her off here all while I’m at work. Lucy’s gone on a few more dates with Racer, but Tatum hasn’t felt the need to be here for those comings and goings. One night she dropped Lucy off after she and Josh took her to dinner, but I was in the shower and they didn’t come inside the house.

I miss her. I think I’ve missed her since the day Austin died. After Lucy’s accident, I was reminded how it felt to see Tatum almost daily. I got a few smiles, stole a few kisses, and imagined for a brief moment that we were bigger than the most unimaginable tragedy. We were stronger together.

Like all brief moments of hope, that one has faded.

I love my wife. That will never change. I will always feel protective of her. And if anyone ever judges her for ending our marriage, I will lose it. Unless you’ve lost a child to an accident, you don’t know what that does to your heart. One can imagine, but that imagination will fall short. Death robs your soul of reason and purpose. Tatum has a pass for the rest of her life to act without reason and purpose, and I will always be her fiercest defender of that right.