He also wanted to bring someone.
He wouldn’t say who.
During those four days, Grandma barely slept.
She took the coat from its hanger again.
And again.
She smoothed the wool.
Checked the newly repaired button.
Once, I found her sitting beside the window with it folded across her lap.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
She nodded.
“What if he asks about his mother?”
I sat beside her.
“Tell him what happened.”
Grandma stared at the coat.
“I’ve told myself a thousand times that I should have stayed.”
“Grandma, you saved him.”
“But I left her.”
She looked at me.
“She trusted me with her little boy.”
I took her hand.
“And you saved him.”
Grandma said nothing.
On Wednesday afternoon, we returned to the department store.
The manager had arranged a quiet room upstairs.
Grandma wore her green coat.
Of course she did.
At two o’clock, the door opened.
