“She became everything.”
Tom said nothing.
“When I realized who you were, I knew the law would see one thing. You were her father. I was no one.”
“You thought I’d take her.”
“Yes.”
The word wounded him because it was honest.
Nora wiped her face.
“I planned to tell you after I knew what kind of man you were.”
“And?”
“And then I saw you with her.”
She laughed once through tears.
“That made it harder, not easier.”
Tom looked toward Lily.
“She loved you before you knew why.”
“I love her.”
“I know.”
“And you still kept this from me.”
Nora’s face crumpled.
“Yes.”
There was nothing she could say that would make that part right.
“I was wrong.”
Tom stood.
Nora rose too.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
“There’s ice everywhere.”
“I need air.”
“Tom—”
He pulled on his coat.
“Please.”
He opened the door.
The cold rushed in.
Then he disappeared into the night.
Nora did not follow.
She sat beside Lily and cried silently.
An hour passed.
Then two.
Lily woke.
“Mama?”
Nora wiped her face quickly.
“Go back to sleep.”
Lily sat up.
“Where’s Tom?”
“Outside.”
“Why are you crying?”
Nora looked at the child she had loved since her first breath.
The truth was no longer hers to hide.
“Come here.”
Lily crawled into her lap.
Nora held her tightly.
“You know how I told you your first mama died when you were born?”
Lily nodded sleepily.
“Her name was Evelyn.”
“I know.”
“There’s something else.”
Nora swallowed.
“Tom was married to her.”
Lily became still.
Nora waited for understanding.
It came slowly.
The child looked toward the door.
Then back to Nora.
“If Tom was married to my first mama…”
Nora nodded.
Lily’s eyes widened.
“Is Tom my papa?”
The word shattered what remained of Nora’s composure.
“Yes.”
Lily stared at her.
“Does he know?”
“He does now.”
“Is that why he went outside?”
Nora could not lie.
“Yes.”
Lily frowned.
“Is he mad because I’m his?”
“No.”
Nora pulled her close.
“Never think that.”
“Is he mad at you?”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I should have told him sooner.”
Lily considered this with the brutal simplicity of childhood.
“You should have.”
Nora almost laughed.
“I know.”
The door opened.
Tom stood there.
His hair was wet with melted snow.
He had been gone long enough for frost to gather on his coat.
Lily slid from Nora’s lap.
Nobody spoke.
Tom looked at his daughter.
Not Nora’s daughter.
Not the child who came with Nora.
His.
His knees seemed to lose their strength.
He crouched.
“Lily.”
She approached cautiously.
“Are you my papa?”
Tom’s face collapsed.
He covered his mouth.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Lily studied him.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“That was silly.”
Tom laughed and sobbed at the same time.
“Yes.”
Lily stepped closer.
“Do I have to call you Papa now?”
“No.”
“What should I call you?”
“Anything you want.”
She thought.
“I think I’ll call you Tom until I get used to it.”
He nodded solemnly.
“That seems fair.”
Then Lily threw both arms around his neck.
