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?”
“Three weeks before she died.”
Dad’s head snapped toward her.
“What?”
Helen went pale.
“You didn’t know?”
Dad stood so quickly his chair struck the wall. “Helen.”
“She told me you knew.”
“No.”
For the first time, Helen looked really frightened.
Dad said, “What exactly did she say?”
Helen’s voice shook.
“She said you wanted your final weeks together without me around. She said you felt guilty asking me to leave yourself.”
Dad stared at her.
“I never said that.”
