I squeezed Dorothy’s hand under the counter. She squeezed back.
Weeks passed.
Eli went to school.
Dorothy took it on herself to cook, slowly gaining confidence in my kitchen.
She started sleeping through the night, which she told me she hadn’t done in months.
One evening, she stood at my sink, drying dishes.
It was a quiet moment until she came undone.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said.
I swallowed hard and put down the plate I was washing.
“This isn’t about Caleb. You were always good to me, Dorothy. I’m just glad I can do something to help you, and that little boy, too.”
She started crying.
“Where did I go wrong with him, Dana?
How… how did Caleb turn into such a terrible person? I don’t understand… and I’m scared.
What if I make the same mistakes with Eli?”
What do you say to a question like that? How do you explain how people turn out the way they do?
I went over, hugged her, and let her cry.
That was all I could do.
When the guardianship papers came through, Dorothy cried.
Quietly.
“I don’t know what comes next,” she said.
I looked around my kitchen, at the extra shoes by the door, the backpack on the chair, and the drawings Eli had taped to my refrigerator.
She nodded. “For now.”
That night, as I turned off the lights and checked that all the doors were locked, I realized something had shifted.
The past had come back to haunt me, but in the best way possible.
I didn’t know if I could call what we’d found together a family, but it was close enough.
If this happened to you, what would you do? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the Facebook comments.
