“There isn’t,” I said. “Not the kind you deserve.”
She nodded as if she already knew. She left a sweater behind. I never returned it.
I stayed with the triplets, not because they asked me to, but because someone had to.
“I’m asking if there’s room.”
***
Daniel showed up the way the weather does.
A birthday card once, with no return address.
A Christmas card with a stamp from somewhere I’d never been.
When the girls were 12, he called.
“I want to reconnect, Noah. I’ve been thinking.”
“Thinking about what, exactly?”
“About them and being a dad.”
I held the phone so tightly that my hand cramped.
When the girls were 12, he called.
“You want to be a dad, you get on a plane. You don’t think about it on my phone bill.”
