Because suddenly every strange detail from Tuesday connected to Natalie.
Dad looking toward the house.
Dad refusing to explain whose adoption he was talking about.
Dad saying someone might claim he was confused.
Dad worrying that someone would accuse him of interfering with my marriage.
And now this.
Do not discuss the envelope with your wife.
“What does Natalie have to do with this?” I asked.
“I’m sorry. Your father didn’t explain.”
That answer gave me nothing, but it also told me something important.
The hospital staff were not interpreting Dad’s wishes.
They were following them.
He had been clear enough, before being sedated for emergency surgery, to create a boundary around that envelope.
My wife was outside it.
I drove to the hospital with one thought repeating in my head.
