He wasn’t just keeping me company. He was keeping watch.
“Oh, baby,” I whispered, and pulled him close again. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that alone.”
He didn’t cry this time. He just held on.
And as I lay there with his head on my shoulder, an old memory came crawling back. One I’d spent four years trying not to look at too closely.
Part Four: The Argument I Tried to Forget
It was three days after Daniel’s funeral.
The casseroles were still stacked in my refrigerator. The flowers were starting to wilt. I was standing at the kitchen sink, trying to remember how to be a person, when Lisa walked in and didn’t bother with hello.
“I need Walter to live with me.”
I turned around slowly. “Last week you needed money.”
“This
isn’t about money.”
“Then what is it about?”
“He’s my brother’s son.”
“And I’m his grandmother.”
Her mouth tightened. “You’re not exactly young, Mom.”
“And you are. You go out every night. You chase that business of yours. You worry about money constantly. Since when do you want to raise a five-year-old?”
“Maybe I’m ready for something more.”
“You barely call him, Lisa. You missed his birthday.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“You didn’t care enough to show up. So why, all of a sudden, do you want him in your house?”
Her face went hard in a way I’d never seen before. “I’m going to fight for my nephew.”
“Lisa…”
“I’ll see you in court.”
She grabbed her purse and walked out, and the door rattled in its frame behind her.
In the end, the court gave guardianship to me. Lisa didn’t speak to me for months afterward.
