Part 2 — Grandpa Saw Something I Didn’t
I turned onto Grandpa’s gravel driveway a little after four in the afternoon.
He was already sitting on the porch.
For nearly two weeks, he had spent every afternoon waiting there for word that Nora could come home.
The moment he spotted my car, he jumped up so quickly that his coffee mug fell from the arm of the rocking chair and shattered on the porch.
“There are my girls!”
At seventy-three, Grandpa wasn’t supposed to move that fast, but he came down the steps like a man twenty years younger.
When I lifted Nora from the car, his eyes immediately filled.
I smiled. “Ready to meet your great-granddaughter?”
He didn’t answer.
He simply stretched out his arms.
I placed her carefully against his chest.
For several seconds, Grandpa looked happier than I had ever seen him.
Then Nora opened her eyes.
Grandpa froze.
The joy on his face disappeared so suddenly that I thought something was wrong with the baby.
He shifted her slightly toward the afternoon light.
His gaze moved from Nora’s blue eye to her dark one.
Then he noticed her chin.
His hands began trembling.
“Emily.”
Something in his voice made my stomach tighten.
“What?”
He looked directly at me.
“Who is Nora’s father?”
I gave a confused laugh. “Grandpa, you know who he is. Caleb.”
Grandpa’s face went pale.
Just one name.
That was all it took.
He slowly sat down in the wicker chair, still holding Nora as though she were made of glass.
