Chapter 26 - The cake we did not replace
Ten months after Emma’s birthday, the bakery emailed me.
Automated promotion.
Ready to plan your next celebration?
I almost deleted it.
Then Emma saw.
“Can I have chocolate again next birthday?”
“Yes.”
“With turquoise?”
“Yes.”
“Can Grandma come?”
That one took longer.
“Do you want her?”
Emma shrugged.
“If she behaves.”
I smiled.
“That applies to everybody.”
Then:
“Can Dad come?”
“Of course.”
She stared at me.
“Even though you’re divorced?”
“Yes.”
“Will it be weird?”
“Probably.”
She accepted.
Then she asked:
“Are you going to slap anyone?”
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
That was the last consequence of my own act.
Not court.
Not diversion.
My daughter remembered.
I could not erase that by being the parent who was more right.
Then Jason arrived for pickup.
Emma ran upstairs.
I told him:
“She wants both of us at her next birthday.”
“Okay.”
“And Margaret.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Her idea?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
No territorial dispute.
Then he said:
“Mom asked whether she could pay for the cake.”
I laughed.
“No.”
He laughed too.
“I already said no.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy living.”
Then:
“She offered to bring plates.”
“Paper?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
That was where Margaret’s authority had finally landed.
Paper plates.
Not names.
Not custody.
Not emotional experiments.
May you like
Plates.
I was comfortable with that.
