Chapter 23 - Claire and Robert
Dad and I rebuilt something.
Not the old relationship.
Maybe better because it no longer depended on pretending.
He saw Eli every six weeks.
Public at first.
Then my home.
Never overnight until Eli was fifteen and asked.
Before first overnight, I asked:
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You can call anytime.”
“I know.”
Dad heard.
“I’ll bring him home if he changes mind.”
Good.
Mom’s contact grew slower.
Letters.
One supervised lunch at twelve.
Another at thirteen.
No hugs unless Eli initiated.
She never entered my house.
Not because I was punishing.
Because my body still tightened imagining her in kitchen.
I did not need to overcome every reaction.
She accepted.
At one lunch, Eli asked:
“Grandma, why did you think Uncle Ryan mattered more?”
Mom cried.
“I didn’t think that consciously.”
“That’s not answer.”
He had inherited my directness.
She tried again.
“I thought Ryan needed rescuing more because you were strong.”
Eli frowned.
“So you gave him my stuff because Mom was strong?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“No.”
“Would you do it again?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Mom paused.
“Because now when somebody asks me for help, I ask whether I actually have the right to give what they want.”
That was a good answer.
Eli nodded.
“Okay.”
No forgiveness declaration.
After lunch:
“Do you love Grandma?”
I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Trust?”
“Some.”
That was healthy.
May you like
Love and trust are separate accounts.
One can exist while other rebuilds.
