Chapter 4
The airplane began with my late wife, Lucia.
Grace surprised me with that.
Years ago Lucia taught Mark to carve simple wooden planes.
He was eight.
Bad at it.
Cut everything crooked.
I remembered.
After Lucia died, one unfinished cedar block remained in my workshop.
Grace found it years later.
Mark told her to throw it away.
She kept it.
When Noah turned three, she carved most of the plane from that block during one of their secret visits.
Noah sanded the tail.
Painted nothing.
Wanted wood because:
“Grandpa likes real things.”
I laughed despite myself.
Then stopped.
“How were you seeing him?”
Grace looked at Claudia.
There.
My future daughter-in-law had known.
Claudia eventually admitted she allowed the first two meetings.
Why?
Not compassion.
Leverage.
She wanted Grace to sign away her place emotionally.
Again, not legal paperwork.
Family reality.
Stop calling.
Stop appearing.
Let Noah call Claudia Mom.
In exchange, occasional visits.
Grace refused.
So Claudia ended access.
Then punished Noah whenever he mentioned Grace.
Not always physically.
Food withheld.
Favorite toys removed.
Bedroom door closed while parties happened downstairs.
And snow.
The lodge punishment started after Noah tried to take the wooden airplane to dinner the previous night.
Mark saw Grace’s initials.
Realized she had reached him again.
So the child was put outside “to learn loyalty.”
I stared at my son.
“You punished a three-year-old for carrying a message he didn’t understand.”
Mark’s voice tightened.
“You don’t understand what she was doing.”
Grace looked at him.
May you like
“I was trying to see my son.”
No one needed a better explanation.
