But the words would not come.
Her son had finally come close enough to touch.
And she was terrified that if she reached for him, he might step away.
Noah saw the hesitation.
It broke something inside him.
“Mom,” he said again, his voice trembling. “Why are you afraid of me?”
Margaret looked into his eyes.
“Because I came such a long way, Noah.”
A tear moved slowly down her cheek.
“And I don’t think I could survive hearing you tell me to go home.”
Noah shook his head.
“I’m not sending you anywhere.”
Claire folded her arms.
“Are you seriously going to let this woman ruin everything we’ve planned?”
Noah slowly turned toward her.
“This woman?”
Claire hesitated.
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t think I do.”
His voice was so quiet that the people nearest him leaned forward to hear.
“This woman worked two jobs so I could eat. She walked three miles to the pharmacy when I had pneumonia because we couldn’t afford a car. She sold her wedding ring to pay my college application fees.”
Margaret lowered her head.
“Noah, please.”
But he continued.
“When I was eight, she went without winter boots so I could have a coat.”
He looked at Claire’s immaculate gown.
“And you sprayed her with a garden hose because her clothes weren’t expensive enough?”
Claire’s face flushed.
“I didn’t know the entire story.”
“You knew she was elderly.”
