Chapter 26 - LILY’S DAUGHTER
Lily became a mother at thirty-four.
Her daughter’s name was Sophie.
At four, Sophie attended Christmas at Hart House wearing a ridiculous reindeer sweater.
I nearly laughed myself unconscious.
Lily pointed.
“Mom. Don’t.”
“What?”
“You’re doing the trauma-circle thing.”
“I’m admiring antlers.”
“Sure.”
Dinner was in the community ballroom.
Round tables.
Families from the lodging program had their own private holiday upstairs.
No donor spectacle.
Sophie climbed into a chair.
Then immediately stood on it.
Lily said:
“Bottom on chair.”
“Why?”
“Because standing on chairs is how you fall.”
Sophie sat.
“Good rule.”
There it was.
She had inherited our family obsession with explanations.
Later Sophie dropped a handmade card.
A man walking past nearly stepped on it.
Lily snatched it first.
Then froze.
Only one second.
Sophie noticed nothing.
“Mommy?”
“Here.”
She handed it back.
No speech.
No tears.
Memory visited.
Left.
That was healing.
Sophie eventually asked why Hart House did not belong to Great-Grandpa Richard.
Lily answered:
“Because living somewhere isn’t the same as owning it.”
“Do we own it?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“A trust.”
Sophie groaned.
“Mom says trusts are boring.”
Lily looked at me.
“She’s learning early.”
Good.
Boring money.
May you like
Safe children.
Evelyn would have approved.
