Chapter 17 - CLARA’S CHILDREN
I had avoided Clara’s children.
Not because they laughed the loudest.
They were children too.
They had watched adults teach them hierarchy through gifts.
Their mother contacted me after Robert’s sentencing.
“My kids think Josephine hates them.”
“Does she know they laughed?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe she does right now.”
“Can we fix it?”
“Not on Christmas.”
That sounded petty.
Also true.
We arranged a park meeting months later.
No presents.
No grandparents.
Clara’s oldest, Nathan, was eleven.
He approached Josephine.
“I’m sorry I laughed.”
She stared.
“Why did you?”
“Grandpa was laughing.”
“Silas too.”
“Yeah.”
“Was it funny?”
“No.”
Josephine considered.
Then:
“Okay.”
Not:
I forgive you.
Not:
Everything is fine.
Okay.
They played later.
Children can rebuild faster when adults stop demanding ceremonies.
Clara apologized to me separately.
She admitted she enjoyed being favored.
Enjoyed watching Robert punish my independence.
“I told myself you were arrogant.”
“I was sometimes.”
“You were still his son.”
“Yes.”
“Josephine was still a kid.”
“Yes.”
She cried.
I did not comfort her immediately.
Apologies are not requests for rescue.
Eventually, we developed a limited relationship.
Not close.
May you like
Civil.
Family without pretending history vanished.
