Perfect.
I answered and said nothing.
Then the phone rang.
Nick.
I almost let it ring out.
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Almost.
But hope is stubborn, even when it should know better.
I answered and said nothing.
I looked at the stained curtain and waited.
“Mom?”
His voice sounded smaller than I remembered.
I still said nothing.
He let out a shaky breath. “I messed up.”
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I looked at the stained curtain and waited.
“I thought 15 minutes wouldn’t matter,” he said. “I thought you’d wait. I didn’t think…”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth.
He stopped.
Then he said, more quietly, “Emma keeps saying, ‘Grandma thought we didn’t want her.'”
I closed my eyes.
“She was right,” I said.
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“No.” His voice cracked. “No, that’s the part I got wrong. I acted like you were one more thing to manage. You came all this way, and I left you outside. I am so sorry.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
I pressed my fingers to my mouth.
In the background, I heard a child ask, “Is she coming back?”
Then another voice: “Tell Grandma I made the sign!”
Nick said, “Mom, please let me come get you.”
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I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know if I can walk back up that driveway,” I said.
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