On the drive home, I finally asked the question that had been bothering me most.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lily stared through the window.
“Because you would’ve helped.”
“Of course I would have.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I needed to know if I could do it myself.”
“Why?”
Her eyes dropped.
“Because Dad can’t anymore.”
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
Then she added quietly,
“I just wanted to know whether I could do one thing he would recognize.”
I reached across the console.
Then stopped myself.
Lily had made her choice.
I wasn’t going to punish her for caring about people.
But I also wasn’t going to erase the consequences of giving away months of hard-earned savings without telling me.
“What you did matters,” I said. “But secretly giving away four thousand dollars and telling me afterward is not something we’re going to make a habit of.”
