Remember this feeling.
Not because I wanted to hold on to the hurt.
Because I never wanted to make anyone else feel it.
Daniel came out about twenty minutes later.
He stood in the doorway. With his hands in his pockets.
“Mom,” he said. “Renee thinks I said it wrong.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I just meant—we’ve been talking. About the future. About what’s best for everybody. You’d be happier somewhere with people your own age. Activities. Independence.”
“Daniel,” I said. “Do you remember the sign on the porch? On Linden Street?”
He blinked.
“What sign?”
I looked at him for a long time.
“Never mind,” I said.
He waited.
“I’ll be out by the end of the month,” I said.
He looked relieved.
He tried not to. But he did.
“You don’t have to rush, Mom,” he said. “Take your time. We’ll help you look at places. Renee’s got a list.”
