Everyone else called it retirement.
He spent more time with grandchildren.
He became terrible at sitting still.
One afternoon seven-year-old Lila opened his refrigerator.
“Grandpa, can I have yogurt?”
Damon, reading nearby, froze for half a second.
Then:
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
She took one.
No history.
No explanation.
A child asked.
An adult answered.
Damon smiled.
Lila stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re weird.”
“Genetic.”
At seventy-nine, Damon suffered a minor stroke.
Recovery was good.
Speech slower.
Memory mostly intact.
Ava moved him temporarily into her home.
One evening she found him standing in front of her refrigerator.
The door open.
Cold air spilling out.
“Dad?”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
He stared inside.
Then suddenly:
“Thursday.”
Ava’s chest tightened.
“What?”
“The food.”
She understood.
Forty years disappeared.
Maison Table containers.
Noah’s lunch account.
Her cheek.
Renee standing at the table.
Damon arriving early.
“The freezer.”
He looked at Ava.
“I should have known.”
She closed the refrigerator.
“Dad.”
“I should have known before I opened it.”
Ava took his hand.
“You didn’t.”
His eyes filled.
“No.”
“You know what I remember?”
He looked at her.
“You picking me up.”
Damon swallowed.
“You were crying.”
“Yes.”
“I was so angry.”
“I know.”
“I almost destroyed everything.”
Ava smiled.
“Some things needed changing.”
He looked toward the refrigerator.
“I keep thinking the important thing was opening that door.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“The important thing was what you did after.”
Damon smiled faintly.
“Your mother did a lot after too.”
“Yes.”
“She worked harder than people know.”
“I know.”
Damon sat.
Ava made tea.
Then he said:
“I’m glad you still love her.”
Ava stopped.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He looked toward her.
“For a long time, part of me wanted you to choose.”
Her face softened.
“Dad.”
“I know.”
He nodded.
“I learned.”
She sat beside him.
“You both wanted choosing.”
“What?”
“Mom wanted us to choose her rules over you.”
Ava smiled.
“You wanted us to choose you over her after.”
Damon closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“That was the problem.”
“What?”