Emily sat on her bed, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
“Grandpa says I have to close my eyes. Then he puts something in my hands, and I have to guess what it is.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Little things. Sometimes a flower. Sometimes a toy. Today it was something soft.”
She smiled faintly.
“He said if I guessed right, I could open my eyes. But I guessed wrong, so he said I had to try again.”
I swallowed.
“And when Grandpa says not to tell me, what does he mean?”
Emily looked down at her rabbit.
“He said the surprise was for you. He wanted me to help him, but I wasn't supposed to tell you until tomorrow.”
I felt a strange mixture of relief and shame, but I wasn't ready to dismiss my concerns.
“Did Grandpa ever ask you to keep a secret about your body, or tell you that you couldn't tell me if something made you uncomfortable?”
Emily shook her head.
“No, Mommy. He says I can always tell you things.”
I held her hand.
“You can always tell me anything, even if someone says I shouldn't. You will never be in trouble for telling me the truth.”
She nodded and leaned against me.
I stayed with her until she was dressed and comfortable. Then I returned to the living room.
My father was sitting on the sofa with his hands clasped together.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Finally, he said, “I know what you must have thought when you opened that door.”
I sat opposite him.
“I don't know what to think, Dad. You asked her to close her eyes. You were bathing her. And she told me you said not to tell me.”
He lowered his head.
“I should never have called it a secret. I should have told you what I was doing.”
His words didn't erase my fear, but they made me listen.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
It was covered in his familiar handwriting.
At the top, he had written: For Sarah, from Emily and Grandpa.
My stomach tightened.
“What is that?”
“A letter,” he said. “And a little surprise.”
He unfolded the paper carefully.
For the next few minutes, he told me a story I had never heard before.
Up Next: Page 3 of 5
My father had kept it for decades.
Continue Reading