I dropped the velvet pouch on his blanket.
“You knew they were dead?”
“The state police called the next morning.”
“Why you?”
“I was the last person Claire called.”
I stopped.
“She called you?”
“You knew they were dead?”
“She left a voicemail that afternoon.”
“Saying what?”
“‘Dad, we’re coming through Riverton at nine. I want you to meet your granddaughter.’ I still have it.”
My knees went weak.
“That night they left Ellie with me. Claire said they were going on a date. Ninety miles for a date?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
My knees went weak.
“Then what was it?”
“She was coming home.”
“Then why didn’t she come in?”
He closed his eyes.
“I watched them on the doorbell camera. Claire rang twice. Daniel held her hand. They waited.”
“And you?”
“She was coming home.”
“I stood inside with my hand on the lock.”
“You didn’t open it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Pride. I’d told her never to come back. I couldn’t bring myself to take it back.”
“They were on that road forty minutes later.”
“You didn’t open it.”
“If I’d opened the door, maybe they’d be alive.”
“So that’s what you can’t forgive yourself for.”
He looked away.
“That’s why you missed the funeral?”
“I couldn’t face you. Or her grave.”
“And Ellie?”
“If I’d opened the door, maybe they’d be alive.”
His jaw tightened.
“You knew about her?”
“I knew where you lived.”
“Excuse me?”
“I drove past your house three times.”
“Three times?”
His jaw tightened.
“I saw the roof. A little girl in a coat too small for her.”
I stared at him.
“I’d sit in the car and think, what do I say? ‘I’m the man who didn’t open the door’?”
“You say, ‘I’m her grandfather.’”
“I couldn’t.”
“Then why send your driver after Meredith?”
‘I’m her grandfather.’
“I knew she’d bring the ring to you. I was afraid you’d look at me like I killed them.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “You just left them standing on your porch.”
He flinched.
“For three years, you let Ellie think nobody else wanted her.”
“I wanted her. I just didn’t know how.”
“You never tried.”
“I just didn’t know how.”
Silence.
“Nate says you don’t want to meet her.”
“I told them that.”
“Was it true?”
“No.” His voice broke. “Please. I don’t have much time. Let me see her.”
I wanted to say no.
Silence.
Then I thought of Ellie’s drawing. Her wish for a bigger family.
“I’m not forgiving you.”
“I’m not asking.”
“I’ll bring her tomorrow. For her, not for you.”
The next day, I brought Ellie to St. Luke’s.
In the elevator, I explained.
“I’ll bring her tomorrow. For her, not for you.”
“Mama had a daddy. He’s very sick. He wants to meet you.”
“Is he nice?”
“He’s very sad.”
“Is he sad because he lost somebody?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Meredith and Nate waited outside room 412.
“Is he nice?”
Ellie stopped at the foot of the bed.
“Hi.”
Richard couldn’t speak. He cried without a sound.
After a while, Richard picked up the velvet pouch.
“This was your great-grandmother’s ring. It’s yours.”
“The treasure,” Ellie whispered.
He cried without a sound.
“Yes.”
“It stays safe until she’s older,” I said.
“Of course.”
Richard handed me an envelope.
“I’ve arranged a trust fund for Ellie’s education. It’s Claire’s share of her mother’s money. I should’ve done it years ago.”
“The treasure.”
I looked at him.
“I still don’t understand you.”
“I know.”
“But I’ll bring Ellie on Sundays. For her sake.”
He nodded, his eyes filling.
That night, Ellie held the ring box up to the lamp.
“I still don’t understand you.”
“Grandma, was the treasure from Mama?”
“In a way, sweetheart.”
She smiled.
“I think she wanted me to find it.”
We’ve been back to see Richard every Sunday since. And her aunt and uncle.
Ellie finally has more family in her life.
