As we settled in our new home, Wilson came over with a box of things on the third day. As soon as I opened the door, he pushed the box toward me. "I brought Tammy's picture books, clothes, and the nightlight next to her bed." I looked down and checked the box without letting him in. After that, I said, "Thanks." He froze up at my polite response. "Do we really have to talk like this?" "How else should I speak to you, Mr. Gomez?" I asked. He stared at me for a long time. "I already told Vivian not to contact me again." I nodded. "That's your business." "You used to care," Wilson said. "It's all in the past now," I said, almost chuckling. I could hear Tammy talking to my mother, Celia, from inside. Wilson instinctively glanced in the direction of the voice and asked "How is she today?" "Her latest checkup went very well," I said. "Can I see her?" Wilson asked. I shook my head. "I asked. She doesn't want to see you." He ran his fingers along the edge of the box
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