He looked toward the fence, thinking. "The thing that bothered me most wasn't that you called me a handyman. It's that you said it as if it answered every other question about me."
"I know," she said. "And I know now that I do that to people. I sort things into categories because categories are easier to manage. The trouble is that a category isn't a person."
It was not a perfect apology, but Daniel did not need it to be a performance. He needed her to mean it and to understand that trust, once dented, could not be restored by declaring the repair complete. He picked up a hinge and turned it in his hand. "The fence is good. I'd still like to finish the gate while the weather holds."
"I'd like that, too."
She stayed for another minute, watching him fit the new hardware to the frame. When she went inside, Daniel felt the tightness in his shoulders ease slightly. He did not pretend the previous day had disappeared. He simply recognized that Catherine had returned to the difficult conversation instead of trying to manage it away.
An hour later, Lily appeared with a notebook and a piece of toast. She sat on the back step, careful to keep clear of his tools, and watched him work. Her hair was tied up, and she wore a sweatshirt several sizes too large, which she explained had once belonged to her father. Daniel nodded, not knowing whether she wanted him to ask about that detail or simply to hear it.
"Mom said she was wrong yesterday," Lily said.
"She told me, too."
"You don't seem angry."
"I was hurt. That's not always the same thing."
Lily examined the notebook in her lap. "I think grown-ups confuse being quiet with not feeling things."
Daniel adjusted the hinge and tested the swing. "A lot of grown-ups do. A lot of children, too."
"Noah doesn't."
"Noah notices when I'm quiet and assumes a problem needs solving. Sometimes I have to remind him that not everything is his job to solve."
"Does he miss his mom?"
"Yes."
"Do you?"
Daniel rested his hand on the gate. "Every day. Not the same way every day. Some days I remember something funny she did and laugh before I realize what I'm doing. Other days I wish I could ask her an ordinary question about groceries or school shoes."
"Did she help you with the business?"
"She had plans for all kinds of things. She liked fixing old furniture. She would have liked you; she asked questions the way you do, except she usually waited until I was holding something heavy."
Lily smiled. "That sounds efficient."
He laughed softly. "She thought so."
The girl looked down at her notebook again, turning a page without reading it. "My dad's lawyer sent another email. He wants temporary primary custody while Mom is having a professional crisis. Those were his words. I saw the email because she left the laptop open."