“Would he want to meet me?”
The manager stared at her.
“Ma’am, he’s been asking that question about you for decades.”
His name was Thomas.
The manager telephoned him that afternoon.
I stayed beside Grandma while they spoke.
At first, Thomas said nothing.
Then he asked, “Is she really there?”
The manager explained about the button.
The coat.
Grandma’s memory of the fire.
I could hear Thomas crying through the telephone.
“Please tell her I never stopped looking.”
Grandma covered her face.
They arranged to meet four days later.
Thomas lived several hours away.
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 by the window with it folded across her lap.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
She nodded.
