CHAPTER 14: THE PHONE CALL
A month later, I was sitting on the back porch, a glass of iced tea in my hand, when my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize.
"Hello?"
"Grandma?"
It was Noah. Daniel's son. He was eleven years old.
"Noah. Sweetheart. How are you?"
"I'm okay. Mom and Dad are fighting. I just wanted to hear your voice."
My heart twisted.
"Do you want to come visit?" I asked.
"Can I?"
"Yes. Of course you can. Anytime you want."
"I'm sorry about everything," Noah said. "I didn't know what they were doing."
"None of it was your fault, Noah. None of it. I love you. I've always loved you."
"I love you too, Grandma."
We talked for a while. About school, about his friends, about his plans for the summer. He sounded happy. Sounded like himself.
May you like
When I hung up, I was crying.
But they were good tears.
