Chapter 9 - THE MARBLE FLOOR WAS REPLACED
Mansion renovated when I was twenty-eight.
Contractor asked about old marble.
Dad looked at me.
I laughed.
“You’re not asking permission to change floor because I knelt there?”
He looked embarrassed.
“Maybe.”
“Replace it because it’s ugly.”
Mom laughed.
They replaced.
No shrine.
Dining table too.
Sold.
Not burned.
Furniture.
Then old shoe cloth? Gone decades.
No symbol museum.
Then I brought girlfriend—later wife—home.
Her name Maya.
She knew story but never made me perform.
At dinner, she spilled wine.
Dad froze.
I laughed.
“Everyone is doing face.”
Mom:
“Family disease.”
Maya wiped.
Normal.
Then Dad asked if I wanted company shares direct at thirty.
I said keep trust structure.
He nodded.
No disappointment.
Then I had child later.
A daughter, Sophie.
At four, she refused fancy shoes.
Good.
Then one day she said:
“Daddy, clean mine.”
Joking.
My body reacted.
Maya noticed.
I crouched.
“You can ask for help.”
Then:
“But nobody kneels because you think they’re less than you.”
Sophie frowned.
“I just can’t tie.”
Fair.
I tied.
No trauma lecture.
Then later I told age appropriate family story.
Not at four.
When older.
Then Sophie met Tyler.
Called Uncle Tyler.
No blood issue.
Choice family.
May you like
That would have driven Vanessa’s hierarchy insane.
Good.
