I took a breath.
“She was angry and made a terrible choice.”
“Did Dad help you?”
That was harder.
“No.”
Grace stared at me.
“He should have.”
“Yes.”
She thought about it.
“Did Grandpa save you?”
I smiled.
“No.”
She frowned.
“But you called him.”
“Yes.”
“He got help.”
“Yes.”
“So he saved you.”
I shook my head.
“He helped me.”
“What is the difference?”
I looked at my daughter.
“Saving me would mean I had no power until he arrived.”
She listened.
“I already had power.”
“Even on the floor?”
That question nearly broke me.
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Even then.”
She looked doubtful.
“What power?”
“The power to tell the truth.”
She thought.
“And call Grandpa.”
“Yes.”
“And say no.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
Children sometimes understand boundaries faster than adults because they have not yet learned to decorate them.
On the tenth anniversary of that Christmas, Dad came to my house for dinner.
