“Yourself.”
That seemed more frightening than anything else.
Claire almost smiled again.
Saturday morning arrived with snow.
Alexander stood outside the flower shop at 9:58 carrying nothing.
It was possibly the first time in his adult life he had attended an important meeting without a briefcase, folder, phone, or gift.
Claire opened the door.
“You’re early.”
“By two minutes.”
“That’s progress.”
Inside, Leo and Lily sat at a small table.
There were crayons everywhere.
Lily looked up.
“Big-car man!”
Alexander glanced at Claire.
She covered a smile.
Leo pointed at the empty chair.
“You can sit there.”
Alexander obeyed.
For twenty minutes, the twins ignored him.
Then Lily handed him a purple crayon.
“Draw.”
“What?”
“A flower.”
Alexander looked at the paper.
He had not drawn anything since childhood.
He attempted a flower.
Lily stared at it.
“That’s bad.”
Claire turned away, shoulders shaking.
Alexander examined his creation.
“I agree.”
Leo climbed onto the chair beside him.
“I can do better.”
“I believe that.”
The boy drew three circles and several crooked lines.
Alexander nodded seriously.
“Much better.”
Leo seemed pleased.
An hour passed.
Then two.
They built a block tower.
They read a book about a bear who refused to sleep.
Alexander learned that Lily hated peas, Leo loved trains, both children believed pigeons were suspicious, and neither understood why adults drank coffee.
He also learned something far more painful.
They did not need him.
They were happy.
Secure.
Loved.
Claire had built that without him.
When noon arrived, Alexander stood reluctantly.
“I should go.”
Leo looked up.
“Why?”
The question caught him completely unprepared.
Claire watched carefully.
Alexander crouched.
“Because your mom said I could visit until lunch.”
Leo considered this.
“Can you come tomorrow?”
Alexander looked at Claire.
She hesitated.
“Next Saturday.”
Leo frowned.
“That’s long.”
“Yes,” Alexander said softly. “It is.”
He left before he could ask for more.
That night, Alexander sat in his study with the children’s drawings on his desk.
Lily’s page had six flowers.
Leo’s had a train.
At the bottom of Leo’s page was a third figure.
Alexander looked closely.
Three people held hands.
One was small.
One wore a dress.
The third was tall.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then his phone rang.
It was Dr. Bennett.
Alexander answered immediately.
“Doctor.”
There was silence.
Then Bennett said, “I understand you’ve found Claire.”
“Yes.”
“And the twins.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I think we should talk.”
Alexander sat straighter.
“About what?”
“Something I should have told you years ago.”
Alexander’s heartbeat changed.
“What?”
Bennett exhaled.
“When Claire called me after the divorce, I reviewed both of your medical records.”
“I know.”
“There was an irregularity.”
“What kind?”
Bennett hesitated.
“The records concerning you.”
Alexander felt the room become suddenly cold.
“My records?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
A long pause followed.
Then Bennett said quietly:
“Alexander, the fertility problems were never Claire’s.”
