His son watched him.
Then asked the question again.
That second chance mattered.
Summer brought them back to the lake.
Arthur suggested it.
Not Beatrice.
Not Simon.
Not a counselor offering an exercise.
He saw a weather forecast and asked whether the water would be warm.
Elias said they could find out.
They went on a Saturday with sandwiches, towels, and shoes that Elias hoped would remain on everyone’s feet.
For a while, Arthur seemed quieter than expected.
His father did not immediately fill the silence.
They walked along the edge until the boy found a flat stone.
“Mum stood here.”
“Near here.”
“Do you remember exactly?”
“No.”
Arthur looked disappointed.
Elias waited.
“What if I’m remembering the photograph instead?”
“That can happen.”
“Then is it wrong?”
“No. It means the photograph helps you keep part of the day.”
Arthur turned the stone over.
“I don’t remember her voice every time.”
Elias sat on the bank.
“Neither do I.”
His son looked at him sharply.
“Really?”
“Sometimes I remember something she said. Sometimes I remember her laugh. Sometimes I have to listen to a recording.”
Arthur sat beside him.
“Can we do that?”
“Yes.”
They listened to an old video on Elias’s phone.
Nora was trying to persuade a much younger Arthur to wave at a duck.
Instead, he threw his hat.
In the recording, Elias shouted about the hat.
Nora laughed so hard the camera shook.
Arthur began laughing too.
Then he cried.
Elias put an arm around him.
Afterward, they ate sandwiches.
On the way home, Arthur asked whether they could come again without watching the video.
“Of course.”
“I want to see if I can skip the stone.”
They returned two weeks later.
He managed three skips.
That became a memory of its own.
