Chapter 22 - My travel changes
I did not stop traveling.
For six months I wanted to.
Then Lily’s therapist, Dr. Rebecca Lin, asked:
“What would Lily learn if you never leave again?”
“That I’m here.”
“Or that the world is only safe when Dad is physically present.”
I hated therapy again.
So we changed travel gradually.
Before:
Approximately fifty nights annually.
First year after:
Twenty-two.
Second:
Thirty.
Third:
Thirty-four.
Not because career regained importance over Lily.
Because safety needed to become structural.
When I traveled:
Lily knew where I was.
Who was staying with her.
When I would call.
She could call me without Claire filtering.
If plans changed, the caregiver and my mother received updates.
No paid side channel.
No secret home window.
The first trip after the case began was Washington.
One night.
Lily cried at bedtime.
“I don’t want.”
“I know.”
“Stay.”
“I leave after breakfast. Grandma sleeps here.”
“Claire?”
“No Claire.”
“Quiet room?”
“No.”
“What if bad?”
I knelt.
“You still get dinner. You still get your pictures. You can call me.”
She thought.
“Even cry?”
“Especially.”
I nearly missed the train because I stayed too long.
Progress is rarely efficient.
That night she called me.
“Daddy.”
“What?”
“Grandma snore.”
From across the room Helen shouted:
“I DO NOT.”
Lily laughed.
Call ended.
Safety became funny.
May you like
That helped.
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