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He looked back down. “Then why wouldn’t she tell us?”
I sat across from him and said the only true thing I had.
“Because adults can do ugly, prideful things and then spend years not knowing how to fix them.”
He swallowed. “Did she love Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Then why stay away?”
I didn’t answer right away. I thought about that cold living room. Then I thought about Mrs. Whitmore crying over a fence Ethan had painted by hand.
“Did she love Dad?”
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“Because loving someone and failing them can happen at the same time,” I said quietly.
He read the last line again.
“She wants to see us.”
“We’re going,” he said.
***
“What did yours say?” I’d asked quietly.
He stared out the window. “That she watched me become the kind of boy Dad had been.”
Neither of us said much after that.
“What did yours say?”
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***
At the hospital, Officer Grant met us near the front desk.
“We’re just here to make sure she’s okay,” he said. “She’s awake, but she’s weak. Don’t tire her out. She kept asking if the boy next door had gotten her letter.”
Ethan nodded, clutching his letter so tightly, the paper had bent at the corners.
***
When we walked into the room, I finally saw her. I hadn’t recognized her while living beside her, but now, with the letter in my hand, I could see the woman from that spotless living room in the bones of her face.
Time had thinned her, but it was her.
Mrs. Whitmore looked at Ethan first. Her mouth trembled.
“She’s awake, but she’s weak.”
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“Hello, sweetheart,” she whispered.
Ethan stepped closer. “Hi.”
Then she looked at me, and all that old pride was gone.
“Devon,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
I crossed my arms. “You should be. You really should be.”
She nodded like she’d expected nothing else.
Ethan spoke before I could. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why do you have a different surname from us?”
“I’m so sorry.”
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Her eyes filled. “Because I was a coward after I was proud, and I changed back to my maiden surname before I moved in next door.”
No one spoke for a second.
Then she said, “My husband made cruelty easy. I let him. When Jeremiah chose you, Devon, I should have chosen him too.”
I stared at her. “So you moved next door to us.”
“Yes.”
“And you watched us?”
“My husband made cruelty easy.”
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She closed her eyes. “I told myself distance was kinder. Truthfully, it was easier.”
Ethan looked down at his letter, then back at her. “You wrote that Dad was gentle when nobody was looking.”
She smiled through tears. “He was.”
He swallowed. “You should’ve told me that sooner.”
“I know.”
Then he looked at me. “She was lonely, Mom.”
Mrs. Whitmore covered her mouth and cried.
“She was lonely, Mom.”
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