A small smile.
The kind that no longer expects anything good.
“Yes,” I said. “About the insurance… and other things.”
Lucy adjusted her hair.
Too quickly.
Like someone who already smelled an opportunity.
“That’s good, Ernest,” she said sweetly. “There are things you shouldn’t have to carry alone anymore.”
Alone.
What a convenient word for people who want to take things from you.
The kids ran out to the backyard.
Thank God.
They didn’t deserve to hear what was coming.
Daniel poured himself some coffee.
As if he were in his future house.
“So, what did you decide?”
I looked at the table.
The same one where Theresa used to knead dough for fresh bread.
The same one where we cried over bills.
The same one where Daniel once did his elementary school homework while I came in covered in grease from the shop.
And I thought something horrible:
there is pain that only exists because you loved too much.
“First, I want to show you something.”
I pulled out the napkin.
I placed it in front of them.
The list.
“House. Shop. Insurance. Investment account. Pending signature.”
Lucy stopped breathing for a second.
Just a tiny one.
But I saw it.
Daniel went still.
Very still.
“What is that?” he asked.
The lie arrived too fast.
Bad sign.
Very bad.
“Your handwriting, Lucy.”
Silence.
She tried to smile.
“Oh, Ernest… that was just to get organized.”
Get organized.
As if they were planning a party.
Not my ruin.
“Sure,” I said. “Just like the documents you wanted me to sign.”
Daniel shifted his posture.
No longer relaxed.
Tense.
“Dad, no one wants to hurt you.”
Dad.
How curious.
It came back when it was convenient.
“No,” I nodded. “You just wanted to phase me out of the equation, little by little.”
Lucy sat up straight.
“That’s unfair.”
“Unfair was hearing last night that you hoped it would be my last candle.”
The air vanished.
Daniel turned pale.
“I didn’t say that.”
Liar.
So fast.
So clean.
I stared right at him.
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