Chapter 29 - THE EMPTY CHAIRAt sixty-three, I resigned as chairman of Romano Logistics.
Daniel nearly applauded.
“You’re impossible in meetings.”
“I founded the company.”
“You interrupt compliance officers.”
“They speak slowly.”
Lily supported my retirement.
Clara celebrated suspiciously enthusiastically.
My final day, I emptied the old study.
Files.
Awards.
Photographs.
Luca’s picture.
One drawer still contained purple rabbit drawings from Lily’s childhood.
I had kept all of them.
Clara found me sitting behind the desk.
“No yellow chair.”
“No.”
It belonged at Poppy House now.
For decades, I thought the empty space would bother me.
It did not.
Because empty was not the same as gone.
My phone rang.
Lily.
“Dad, are you busy?”
“I am retired.”
“You retired four minutes ago.”
“I have adapted quickly.”
“We need someone to read stories at Poppy House.”
“No.”
“Four-year-olds.”
“No.”
“They already know you’re coming.”
“That is manipulation.”
“Yes.”
I went.
There were eleven children.
One climbed onto my shoe.
Another asked whether I was “the old guy from Lily’s picture.”
I objected.
Nobody cared.
Then a little boy refused to sit.
He stood near the door.
Watching it.
I recognized that behavior.
Children who needed exits rarely trusted chairs.
So I did not tell him to sit.
I sat on the floor instead.
After several minutes, he came closer.
Then closer.
Finally he sat beside me.
Not touching.
Just there.
I opened the book.
That was when I understood the yellow chair had never really been about Lily owning a chair.
It was about a frightened child knowing nobody would remove her from the room.
Poppy House now contained hundreds of chairs.
That was Luca’s legacy.
Michael’s.
Clara’s.
May you like
Lily’s.
Maybe even mine.
