He didn’t recognize it.
But Renee did.
She’d seen it in the garage. On the metal shelf. When she helped me pack. The bath towel had slipped. She’d seen the letters.
SECOND CUP.
They drove over on a Saturday.
I was on the porch.
Seven-thirty in the morning. In the swing. With Harold’s blue mug.
Earl Grey. Honey. A splash of milk.
My second cup.
A white Tesla pulled up in front of the house.
Daniel’s.
He got out.
He stood on the sidewalk.
He looked at the house. The porch. The swing. The roses along the front walk.
He looked at me.
His face went white.
Renee got out of the passenger side.
Chloe and Caleb got out of the back.
Caleb saw me first.
“GRANDMA!”
He ran up the front walk. Between the roses. Up the porch steps. He threw his arms around me.
