Barbara put everything down.
Washed her hands.
Then carefully lifted her granddaughter.
Her entire face changed.
“Well,” she whispered, “aren’t you beautiful?”
Chloe yawned directly at her.
I laughed.
It was the first real laugh I’d had in weeks.
Barbara looked at me.
“You bought the medication?”
“Some.”
“What does that mean?”
“I couldn’t afford all of it.”
Her jaw tightened.
“And Eric refused?”
I nodded.
Barbara rocked Chloe gently.
Then she said:
“I’ve spent a very long time making that man’s life easier than it should have been.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She stayed until Chloe fell asleep.
At the door, she put on her coat.
“I’m coming back tomorrow morning.”
“Why?”
A strange smile appeared.
“I have an idea.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No.”
She opened the door.
“Eric should.”
Barbara arrived before sunrise.
June agreed to watch Chloe.
Then Barbara told me to get into her car.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Barbara.”
“Don’t ask questions.”
We drove toward Eric’s neighborhood.
Then she said:
“And try not to react.”
“To what?”
“You have a terrible face.”
“My face?”
“You cannot cafar hide what you’re thinking.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
We reached Eric’s street while most of the houses were still dark.
Barbara parked around the corner.
Then opened her trunk.
It was packed.
Boxes.
Bags.
A guitar.
“What is all this?”
“Eric’s.”
We carried everything to his porch.
Childhood trophies.
Photo albums.
College boxes.
Winter clothes.
Old sports equipment.
A battered guitar Barbara had stored for years.
She arranged everything neatly.
Then placed a handwritten note on top.
YOU WANTED YOUR OWN LIFE.
HERE IT IS.
I looked at her.
“This is your plan?”
“First part.”
“There’s more?”
“Oh, yes.”
We returned to the car.
Twenty minutes later, Eric opened the front door.
His reaction was loud enough to wake the neighborhood.
“What the hell?”
Tessa appeared behind him in pink slippers.
She picked up a baseball trophy.
“Why is all your childhood stuff here?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Eric saw the note.
His face changed.
“My mother.”
