“Grandma.”
She handed me another folded paper.
I opened it after reaching the apartment.
It was a drawing.
The four of them stood beside a palm tree.
I stood several inches away in front of a square building.
A dotted line connected us.
Above the line, Emily had written:
GRANDMA STILL LIVES HERE TOO.
I taped it to my refrigerator.
The next week changed something.
Not dramatically.
In small ways.
Daniel texted instead of calling five times.
Rebecca asked if I wanted to pick Emily up after school rather than assuming I would.
When I said no because I had lunch plans, she replied:
Have fun.
No guilt.
No follow-up question.
Jack came to the apartment Saturday and helped me assemble a bookshelf.
He read the instructions aloud with great authority while I corrected him whenever he skipped a page.
