An elderly man stepped inside.
White hair.
A walking stick.
Eyes already shining.
He stopped when he saw Grandma.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Thomas looked down at her coat.
He walked toward her slowly.
“Seventeen,” he whispered.
Grandma began to cry.
Thomas touched one brass button.
“I remember this.”
He looked into her face.
“I’ve wanted to see you for so long.”
Grandma reached for his hand.
“You were such a little boy.”
He laughed shakily.
“I was.”
“You kept asking for your mommy.”
His smile trembled.
“I remember.”
Grandma swallowed.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help her.”
Thomas squeezed her hand.
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
He turned toward the door.
Grandma watched as a woman gently pushed a wheelchair through the doorway.
Thomas stepped toward it.
“Mom, there’s someone here for you.”
Grandma’s hand flew to her mouth.
An elderly woman sat beneath a soft blue blanket.
