“Nora cannot see what’s in there.”
Martin said it so quietly that for a second I thought I had imagined it.
Uncle Ray stopped with one finger beneath the envelope flap.
Caleb looked from his father to Ray and laughed, but there was no confidence in it anymore.
“What is this?” he demanded.
“Some old-man intimidation routine?”
Ray did not look at him.
He looked at me.
“Nora, do you want me to open this?”
That question changed the room.
For hours, everyone had spoken around me, over me, and for me.
Caleb had decided what our son would be called.
Martin had decided what emotions I was permitted to have.
Even the marks on my neck had been turned into a lesson I supposedly needed.
Ray was the first person who asked me what I wanted.
I shifted Eli higher against my chest.
“Yes.”
Martin moved before Ray could open it.
“Raymond, think carefully.”
Ray finally turned toward him.
“I have been thinking carefully about you for thirty-seven years.”
Caleb stared at his father.
“Thirty-seven years?”
Martin’s jaw tightened.
“Your uncle and I served at the same installation for a short period.
That is all.”
Ray opened the envelope.
Inside were several folded photocopies, yellowed at the edges.
He did not hand them to me immediately.
Instead, he placed them face down on the tray.
Caleb scoffed.
“Ancient paperwork? Seriously?”
Ray’s expression barely changed.
“The original records are not in my coat.
These are copies I kept because some men spend the rest of their lives pretending the past disappeared when they stopped looking at it.”
Martin’s eyes hardened.
“You always enjoyed making yourself important.”
“There he is,” Ray said.
The words landed differently than an insult.
They sounded like recognition.
Eli stirred against me.
I kissed the top of his head and tried to slow my breathing.
Ray noticed.
He moved the papers farther from the bed, not closer.
“Nothing happens unless Nora wants it to happen,” he said.
Caleb stepped forward.
“This is my wife and my son.
You don’t come into my room and make decisions.”
Ray looked at him then.
“Your room?”
Caleb’s face flushed.
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” Ray said.
“I know what you said.”
Martin interrupted.
“Caleb, stop talking.”
