Chapter 26 - The Staircase
Three years after the wedding, Morello House hosted a charity dinner.
I had avoided major events there with Daphne for almost two years.
Not banned.
Choice.
At ten, she asked:
“Can I go to winter dinner?”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Aunt Elise says desserts good.”
Sound reasoning.
The grand staircase remained.
Same carpet had been replaced after normal wear, not as trauma ritual.
Same landing.
Daphne entered beside me.
Stopped at the bottom.
I waited.
No:
You can do this.
No:
Be brave.
She looked upward.
Then said:
“Elevator?”
“Absolutely.”
We took elevator.
That would have been enough.
An hour later, while looking for a quiet place to call a friend, she ended up on the upper landing.
I saw her from below.
My body tightened.
She noticed.
Rolled her eyes from twenty feet away.
Then walked toward the stairs.
One hand on railing.
Stopped.
Looked down at me.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“Stop doing face.”
Apparently every child invents the same phrase.
“I’m fine.”
“You are not.”
I smiled.
She descended one step.
Then another.
No one behind her.
No Miranda.
No bride.
No threat.
Halfway down she stopped.
“Can you come?”
I went up.
Not to carry.
Just beside.
We walked down together.
At the bottom she said:
“I hate this staircase.”
“Okay.”
“Can still use elevator.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“But stairs faster.”
Choice had returned before comfort did.
May you like
That was enough.
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