“Walker,” she said. “Are you Evelyn Walker’s grandson?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled. “We’ve all heard the story.”
Sarah was in labor for eleven hours. I held her hand through all of it. She nearly broke my fingers.
Grandma was in the family waiting room the whole time.
When I came out to tell everyone, she was sitting in the same blue chair by the same big window, looking out at the courtyard. Dr. Hale was next to her. Catherine had driven down from Chicago in the middle of the night. My mother had flown up from Florida.
Kayla was sitting with Grandma too. She’d come in on her day off. She’d brought Grandma a cup of coffee in a real mug and a muffin from the cafeteria, and she was holding her hand.
On the tablet at the front desk, on the list of authorized family visitors, there was a name.
