“It isn't.”
He looked toward the yard.
“I was scared too.”
“Of Lauren?”
“Of everything.”
Renee laughed.
“You looked very calm hiding it.”
“I wasn't.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I emailed Lauren first.”
“From where?”
“Work.”
“Of course.”
“I asked what she wanted.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing from us.”
Renee turned.
“She said that?”
“She said she would answer Zoe’s questions if we were comfortable.”
“She did not want custody.”
“She did not want money.”
“She did not want to disrupt the family.”
“She said she had spent fourteen years telling herself that loving Zoe meant respecting the life she chose for her.”
Renee looked away.
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“I thought so too.”
“Then?”
“I met her.”
“Alone.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know who she was before Zoe sat across from her.”
Renee’s expression hardened.
“That is something we should have done together.”
“Yes.”
“But you did it alone.”
“Yes.”
“Then you let Zoe meet her.”
“Yes.”
“And you lied to me about basketball shoes.”
“Yes.”
Marcus did not soften anything.
That helped slightly.
Renee asked:
“Did Zoe ask you not to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Because she started crying.”
Renee stared.
“That is your reason?”
“No.”
He took a breath.
“My reason is that I am a coward when the two people I love most might hurt each other.”
Renee stopped.
Marcus continued.
“I told myself I was creating time.”
“I would meet Lauren.”
“Then I would tell you.”
“Then Zoe asked to meet her.”
“I told myself one meeting.”
“Then Lauren said she had the letters and family photographs.”
“I told myself we would get those.”
“Then I would tell you.”
Renee laughed without humor.
“After.”
“Yes.”
“The favorite word of people hiding things.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward her.
“I kept moving the line because every day I waited made the previous day harder to admit.”
That, at least, sounded honest.
Renee sat on the deck step.
Marcus sat two steps below.
Not touching.
After a while Renee asked:
“What is she like?”
He knew who.
“Lauren?”
“Yes.”
Marcus thought.
“Quiet.”
“That is vague.”
“She is thirty-two.”
“Works as an occupational therapy assistant.”
“Lives alone.”
“No husband?”
“No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I don't know.”
“Children?”
Marcus paused.
Renee saw.
“What?”
“One.”
Her stomach tightened.
“A child?”