“What box?”
“The blue one your mother left in my closet.”
Helen looked away.
Dad explained that inside the box were seven sealed envelopes.
Six for the women Mom had chosen.
One for Dad.
Mom knew he’d feel guilty dating again.
So she chose women she believed would accept that part of Dad would always love her.
My throat tightened despite myself. “That’s why they leave?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Dad looked at Helen.
“When the check comes, I give them Mom’s letter. Then I show them mine.”
“What letter?”
“The one Maggie wrote to me.”
I pushed the list toward him. “You mean this?”
“No.”
Dad reached into his jacket and removed a folded white page.
The creases were nearly worn through.
He handed it to me.
Most of it was what I expected.
Mom telling Dad she loved him.
Mom telling him not to spend the rest of his life alone.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
“If Helen ever comes back into your life, promise me she will remain your friend and nothing more. Anyone else, Tom. Just not her.”
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Helen. “You were in love with him.”
“No.”
Dad said, “Rachel.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
“Was he in love with you?”
Helen answered this time.
“Not while your mother was alive.”
The room seemed to shrink.
I stared at Dad. He didn’t deny it.
Helen’s voice softened.
“Your mother got sick. Your father was exhausted. You were working in another state. I started helping.”
I remembered trays of food appearing in Mom’s refrigerator, appointments Dad somehow managed, fresh sheets when Mom was too weak to climb the stairs.
I’d thought Dad had done everything.
“Helen did those things?”
He nodded.
“And Mom knew?”
“Yes.”
Helen swallowed. “For a while, she was grateful.”
“For a while?”
Dad looked at the photograph.
“Then Maggie started watching us.”
Nothing had happened.
No affair.
No kiss.
No secret meetings.
But Mom saw something neither of them had admitted.
Helen could make Dad laugh during the worst year of his life.
Dad could sit silently beside Helen without pretending to be strong.
Mom began to fear the life that might continue after hers ended.
“So she crossed you off,” I said. “And scratched your face out.”
Helen nodded.
“Yes.”
“But why did you disappear?”
Helen’s eyes filled.
“Because she asked me to.”
I stared at her. “Mom told you to leave?”
