A week later, Maisie asked whether she could tell Mabel something unkind without her leaving.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“That I miss Anna more.”

Mabel nodded.

“I’d expect you to.”

The child stared.

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t need you to stop caring about someone else.”

Maisie leaned back.

Later, she invited Mabel to help make another paper bridge.

The relationship did not begin by winning a competition.

Julian watched it grow slowly.

He was relieved.

He also understood that his own consistency mattered more now, not less.

His daughter needed a father.

Not a man who selected excellent women and assumed the emotional work was finished.

The picnic happened on a windy Sunday.

Anna arrived with Beth.

Maisie saw them from the path and ran forward.

Then she stopped long enough to ask whether the paper town should have come too.

Anna laughed.

“I think we’d spend the afternoon chasing it.”

The girl agreed.

They ate sandwiches.

Discussed the nursery.

Anna told a story about a child who insisted a wooden spoon was a telephone.

Maisie found that reasonable.

After lunch, she asked whether she could come home with Anna.

“Not today.”

Her face fell.

Anna stayed beside her.

Julian did not interrupt with a better offer.

Disappointment did not always require a prize.

Maisie was quiet for several minutes.

Then Beth asked whether she wanted to see a beetle on the path.

She did.

The afternoon continued.

When it ended, there were tears.

There was also a conversation about the next possible visit.

Nobody promised every Sunday.

Nobody made affection depend on constant availability.

On the drive home, Maisie fell asleep.

Julian carried her inside.

He knew where the blanket was.

He knew which lamp to leave on.

He no longer needed to telephone Anna for the small things that made his daughter feel at home.

Nearly a year after the dinner, Maisie invited Anna to a school exhibition.

Not to collect her.