I thought I knew every corner of our little family.
Inside was a pearl necklace.
“Well,” I said at breakfast, “unless one of you got engaged to a prince, I have questions.”
Rose’s smile flickered.
Next, May got a designer coat. Then June walked in with her phone.
“My car payment’s gone.”
Inside was a pearl necklace.
“Paid off?”
“Paid off.”
Nobody laughed.
“Who sent these?” I asked.
Rose looked down. May blinked too fast. June crossed her arms.
“They’re from Mom,” June said.
“Who sent these?”
I gripped the counter.
“Lisa? Are you serious?”
May nodded.
“How long?”
“A few months,” Rose said.
“Months.”
“Lisa? Are you serious?”
“We didn’t know how to tell you,” May whispered.
“So you told her instead.”
May flinched.
I hated that I hurt her, but I couldn’t pull the words back.
June stepped forward. “She reached out online. We had a right to answer.”
I hated that I hurt her.
“You did,” I said.
My voice sounded strange.
“You absolutely did.”
Rose came closer. “Grandpa, we weren’t trying to betray you.”
I nodded.
“You absolutely did.”
But inside, I was back in that hospital hallway, watching Lisa walk away.
Only this time, I was afraid the girls were walking toward her.
“Did she ask about me?” I said.
Nobody answered.
That told me enough.
I rinsed a clean plate because my hands needed something to do.
“Did she ask about me?”
May touched my arm.
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
I shut off the water.
“Scared.”
The word surprised all four of us.
“Are you mad?”
I had raised three babies on nearly nothing.
But nothing scared me like the thought that I had only been keeping someone else’s place warm.
Rose’s eyes filled.
“Grandpa, no.”
“If Lisa wants to come back,” I said, before I lost my nerve, “she doesn’t do it through packages.”
