They laughed together.
For the first time in years, Gunter began putting Elaine's photographs back around the house.
He placed one beside the coffee maker.
Another in the garage.
One near the front door.
He stopped hiding his memories.
Claire noticed.
"You seem different," she told him one evening.
Gunter shrugged.
"Maybe I'm just tired of pretending I'm not."
Claire nodded.
She understood more than he expected.
She had spent years pretending she wasn't afraid.
After Lily's father left, Claire had worked two jobs while trying to keep their home. She never told Lily when the electricity bill was late. She never told her about the collection notices. She never told her that sometimes she skipped meals so Lily could eat.
Gunter eventually learned.
Not because Claire complained.
Because he noticed.
One night, after a club meeting, Gunter saw Claire sitting alone on the porch.
"Everything all right?"
She smiled weakly.
"Just thinking."
"That's dangerous."
She laughed.
Then her smile disappeared.
"I got a letter today."
Gunter sat beside her.
"Bad?"
"Rent increase."
"How much?"
"Enough."
He waited.
Claire looked down.
"I might have to move."
Lily's bedroom light was visible through the window.
"She loves this place," Claire whispered.
Gunter nodded.
"Kids get attached to walls."
"And streets."
"And people."
Claire looked at him.
"You've done so much already."
Gunter shook his head.
"I haven't done anything."
"You gave my daughter a motorcycle."
"I built a motorcycle."
"Same thing."
"No."
He looked toward Lily's window.
"That smile belongs to her."
Claire wiped her eyes.
"You know what she says?"
"What?"
"She says you're her grandpa."
Gunter went silent.
Claire immediately regretted saying it.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
He looked down at his hands.
"Nobody's called me that before."
A week later, the Iron Saints held their annual charity ride.
Gunter brought Lily's yellow motorcycle to the event.
It sat on a small platform near the entrance.
People gathered around it.
Children pointed.
Adults smiled.