Chapter 6 - THE FIRST CONVERSATION
"I promised I wouldn't leave," Adrian said quietly, standing up slowly from his booth so he wouldn't startle them.
Claire held her granddaughters close, her eyes cautious, but she didn't pull them away. She looked tired, her face pale, but the heavy, suffocating weight of debt was no longer visible in her eyes. Two hours ago, her bank had called to inform her that her mortgage was paid in full, her utility account held a five-thousand-dollar credit, and the hospital collection lawsuit had been dismissed entirely.
"Mrs. Miller," Claire said softly. "Can the girls have three of Lara's cinnamon rolls?"
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Miller said warmly, immediately bustling behind the counter to pack three fresh, warm pastries into brown paper bags.
While Claire paid at the register, Sophie took a tentative step toward Adrian’s booth.
She looked at his shiny black leather shoes, his perfectly tailored coat, and then at his face.
"Are you rich?" Sophie asked, her voice small and delicate.
Adrian dropped down onto one knee, resting his hand on his knee so he was at eye level with her.
"Yes, Sophie," Adrian answered honestly. "I am very rich."
"Do you have a castle?"
Adrian offered a small, genuine smile—the first real smile that had touched his face in seven years. "No. But I have a very big house in Chicago with a view of a big lake."
"Does it have toys?"
"No," Adrian admitted. "It doesn't have any toys. It’s very quiet and very empty."
Naomi walked up beside her sister, her fogged glasses now clear, exposing those striking gray-blue eyes. She pulled her children’s book from her tote bag—the book she had protected from the rain at the cemetery.
It was an illustrated children’s book about astronomy titled The Stars Above Us.
"Do you know what a nebula is?" Naomi asked abruptly, her voice serious and precise.
Adrian looked at his seven-year-old daughter, amazed by her sudden, intellectual challenge.
"A nebula is a giant cloud of dust and gas in space where new stars are born," Adrian answered, drawing upon his memory of physical science. "Some of them are formed from the explosion of a dying star."
Naomi’s eyes widened slightly behind her glasses. She looked down at her book, then up at Adrian.
"Mommy said stars die so other things can be born," Naomi whispered softly.
The room went completely quiet.
Adrian felt a hot tear escape his eye, rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. He reached out, his hand hovering an inch from Naomi's shoulder, waiting for permission.
Naomi didn't pull away. She leaned in slightly, allowing his fingers to gently brush against her brown hair.
"Your mother was a very wise woman, Naomi," Adrian choked out.
Suddenly, Emily stepped between them, her small arms crossed over her chest.
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"Knowing about space doesn't make you a dad," Emily declared sharply.
"No," Adrian agreed, looking at his oldest daughter with profound respect. "It doesn't, Emily. Showing up every day does. And I am going to show up every day until you tell me to stop."
