Chapter 26 - Noah asks who Vivian is
At four, Noah understood family through categories.
Mom.
Aunt.
Dad.
Grandpa.
He had no living father.
That required its own conversations.
We had photographs of Luke.
I told him:
“Your dad was named Luke.”
“Where?”
“He died before you were born.”
“When he could understand more, I added more.”
One afternoon he asked:
“Vivi mom?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“Vivi loves.”
“Yes.”
“Vivi aunt?”
“Yes.”
He considered.
Then:
“You mom.”
“Yes.”
Simple.
Then:
“Cece aunt.”
“Yes.”
“Margot aunt.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Lots.”
“Too many.”
He laughed.
Family categories became ordinary only after we stopped using them as weapons.
Vivian visited twice a month.
Sometimes more during holidays.
She asked before buying large gifts.
That took practice.
The first Christmas she brought a battery-powered miniature car.
I stared.
She said:
“I should have asked.”
“Yes.”
“Return?”
“Yes.”
Noah survived.
May you like
He received blocks instead.
A miracle.
