Lily nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”
“Can I ask you something now?”
“Okay.”
“Why did you give her the cardigan? Of everything. The money I understand. The dress I understand. But that was the last thing he ever gave you.”
Lily looked down at her plate.
“Because it was the last thing he ever gave me,” she said. “And she never got anything from him. Not one thing. Not one present that said ‘from Dad’ on it. I wanted her to have one thing he picked out with his own hands.” She shrugged. “Even if he picked it out for me.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
Me acerqué y le apreté la mano. Las yemas de sus dedos estaban cubiertas de pinchazos de aguja.
The concert was Friday at seven.
El auditorio de la escuela estaba lleno. Padres con teléfonos sostenidos, hermanos pequeños y hermanas corriendo en los pasillos, abuelos en las primeras filas con sus programas. Lily y yo nos sentamos a mitad de camino.
