For Lucy

“Yes. I absolutely can.” I stand, which makes her wobble again on the sofa. Then I take her arms and put them on my shoulders as I grab her waist. “Now … let’s see you stand again.”

“I’m not supposed to try it at home yet. PT’s rules.”

“Stand, Luce.”

“What if I fall?”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“I can’t.” She shakes her head.

I grumble and take a deep breath. “If you can stand, you can walk. If you can walk…” I hate that I’m saying this, but right now, I’ll use anything to motivate her “…you can have sex.”

Her pout vanishes and she grins.

“When you’re older. And married.”

Rolling her eyes, she grips my shoulders with a bit of seriousness now. I lift her to her feet.

“Don’t let me go!”

“I’m not, Lucy. I’ve always got you.”

After making her stand several times in a row, I help her back into her wheelchair and make us dinner—steaks medium rare, baked potatoes loaded with butter, and green beans to even things out. Then we make a fire and assemble s’mores.

“I almost told her,” Lucy says.

“Told who what?” I sandwich my marshmallow between the graham crackers.

“Mom. I almost told her the truth about Austin.”

My gaze cuts to hers. “Why?”

“Because Dr. Kane thinks I’m ready. She thinks now that Mom’s moved on and you’re doing okay, that it would be fine to tell her. Mom feels responsible for my accident. I think she would understand now … she would understand that what happened with Austin was an accident too.”

“It was an accident. I messed up. Not on purpose.”

“Dad …”

I return my attention to the mess in my hands. Lucy and I just … stopped talking about it years ago. At least the specifics of that day. I’ve assumed—hoped—that she’s allowed herself to truly believe it was my fault and, not hers. But I’ve always known that look in her eyes. It’s not sympathy for me; it’s guilt. She knows what happened, even if I tried to color the picture to look a little different.

“Mom didn’t think you were on your way home. He didn’t die on your watch. He died on mine.” Her gaze cuts to the side, lips pressed together.

I see how much her time with Dr. Kane has helped, something Tatum can’t see because she has no idea there’s more to it than a young girl who tragically lost her brother in a drowning incident.

“Dr. Kane asked me how I felt about you when I thought it was your fault. And I said I felt sorry for you because Mom couldn’t forgive you. I said I forgave you. Then she said if I was willing to forgive you, I had to be willing to forgive myself or I wasn’t ready to take responsibility for the accident. So I’ve tried, more than once actually, to tell Mom. But every time I choke. The words … the emotions feel like they’re stuck in my throat. It’s not that I’m afraid she won’t forgive me. I’m afraid to see the look on her face when she realizes that we’ve kept this from her for all these years. I think it will make her guilt even worse, like we didn’t trust her with the truth.”

“Then why tell her?”

She laughs a little. A painful laugh. “Because I want a normal life. And if I try to live with this secret, I will always need someone like Dr. Kane in my life, talking me off the ledge, helping me cope with the pain of keeping this from Mom.”

“Maybe you should wait until you’re walking again and she’s let go of the guilt from your accident.”

“Maybe telling her now will help her let go of that guilt sooner.”

I shake my head. “That’s not how it works, Lucy. There is nothing that will make your mom feel like her mistake is okay or less awful because another mistake somehow offsets it. If you tell her about Austin, it won’t make her feel differently about me.”

“She’d feel differently about you if she knew you’re not the one responsible for Austin’s death.”

“I …” I rub the back of my neck. “That’s not how I want her forgiveness. I don’t want her to forgive me because she believes I took the blame for his death. I want her to forgive me like she would if I truly was responsible for his death.”

“And what if that never happens?”

I shake my head. “Then it never happens.”

“But what if I have to tell her—for me?”

“Then you have to tell her. But do it for you, Lucy. Don’t do it for me. Don’t do it because you think I need her forgiveness. Don’t do it because you think it’s going to change my relationship with your mom. Do it only for you and what you need to live that beautifully normal life you talk about.”