Chapter 22 - The First Meeting I waited two years.
I was twenty-two.
Robert was fifty-five.
I requested a mediated meeting.
Julia said:
“You don’t owe him.”
“I know.”
That was why I could choose it.
Neutral office.
Therapist present.
Robert stood when I entered.
Older.
Thinner.
No black suit.
No ring.
“Katie.”
“Hi.”
He did not reach for me.
Good.
I sat.
My first question surprised everyone.
“Why pancakes?”
He blinked.
“What?”
“You always made terrible animal pancakes.”
A small laugh escaped him.
“Your mom was better.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then I asked:
“Did you love her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think about killing her?”
“No.”
I believed him.
That did not change the conviction.
“Did you push her?”
He looked down.
“I don’t remember a deliberate push.”
“That’s not my question.”
He breathed.
“I grabbed her. She tried to get away. I moved with her. My hands were on her when she lost balance.”
“Could you have pushed without deciding to?”
“Yes.”
There.
No perfect memory.
Then:
“Why the ring?”
He closed his eyes.
“When I opened the purse, it was beside the USB. I took both. After the hospital I kept the ring because it felt like something solid.”
“You destroyed the drive.”
“Yes.”
“Then wore the evidence that proved you opened the purse.”
“Yes.”
“Stupid.”
“Extremely.”
I almost smiled.
Didn’t.
“Why tell me Mom gave it to you?”
“Because the second you said it was in her purse, I knew you had seen something I needed everyone to believe I never touched.”
“So you lied to a nine-year-old at her mother’s coffin.”
“Yes.”
He cried.
I did not comfort him.
Then:
“Do you want to be my dad?”
His face broke.
“I don’t get to ask for that.”
Good answer.
“What do you want?”
“To answer whatever you ask and accept whatever relationship you choose.”
“Do you still think you loved me?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“I think you did too.”
That seemed to hurt him more than anger.
Because love had not prevented betrayal.
The meeting lasted forty minutes.
I left without hugging him.
Outside, Julia waited in the car.
“How was it?”
“Awful.”
“Useful?”
“Yes.”
“Again?”
“Not soon.”
Good.
Robert respected that.
Eight months later, I sent him an email about pancakes.
He sent the recipe.
May you like
It was terrible.
Some relationships return through absurd doors.
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