“Just take it. And tell them—tell Thomas and Sara that I miss them. That I love them.”

She squeezed her hands over the envelope. “I can’t tell them that.”

“Why not?”

Lynn gave her husband a look that she was used to giving him—the look an adult gives a child when they should know better. “I think you know why.”

Telling them that Daddy misses and loves them will only make the situation worse.

“Are you ever coming back?”

She didn’t say anything.

“I’m trying,” he continued. “I’m trying to get things in order. Lord knows I’m trying.”

“I asked you every day for years and you never listened. How am I supposed to believe you now?”

He nodded. He knew. The booze was just the match that lit the fire. His rage and his disregard for family—those weren’t things he could just suddenly say “So sorry” about and then move on.

“I’m trying, Lynn,” he said.

“You’ve been ‘trying’ your whole life.”

He shook his head and then wiped the sweat off his forehead. “This is different.”

She stopped herself from saying something else, something defensive and hurtful. He seemed different. And he was acting different. And the money was certainly different.

Maybe he really, truly is trying.

“Then that’s a start, right?” she said. “You take it one day at a time. Just like all of us.”

“Can I see them?”

“No.”

“They’re my children too.”

“Not anymore.” She leaned over the table so he’d hear the words she was whispering very carefully. “You ignored them long enough. You promised and you ignored that promise. You promised and then you lied.”

“I can change.” Daryl sighed. “I’m working on it every day.”

“Good for you,” she told him. “But maybe that’s not good enough for the rest of us.”

With those words, she stood up and wished him well, then walked out on the street and climbed into her car to head back to her home and her children.

Nice on a Bumper Sticker

Kevin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at church. It had been a while. He probably should have been listening to the sermon, but he couldn’t help thinking about Jenny, who was resting at home, or Gregory, who was playing in the nursery. He thought of Baby A and Baby B and wondered when he would finally start calling them Mark and Benjamin. He thought of Precision and his employees. That just brought him back around to thinking of Jenny and Gregory and the babies, especially little Baby B.

In the lobby just moments earlier, he’d encountered the same thing he always got from their friends who hadn’t seen them for quite some time. Their comments echoed in the Grand Canyon of his mind:

“How are the babies doing?”

“How’s Jenny doing?”

“Twins, huh? Boy, oh, boy.”

“Do you have names picked out?”

“Enjoy that hair before it falls out.”

“Get some rest now.”