Not because of the trust.
Because I was seventy-two years old and nervous about meeting a little girl who wanted to call me Grandma.
I changed my dress three times.
Then I stood in front of the mirror wondering whether I looked too old.
The thought made me laugh.
Of course I looked old.
I was seventy-two.
But for years, I had imagined growing older with Thomas.
We would sit on our porch, complain about our knees, and spoil the neighbor's grandchildren.
Now Thomas was gone.
And somehow, a granddaughter had appeared.
I wore a blue dress he'd always liked.
Then I drove to the little restaurant near the park.
Lucy spotted me first.
“Margaret!”
She waved both arms.
Julian stood.
He looked nervous too.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello, Julian.”
Lucy ran toward me.
I crouched as best I could.
She hugged me.
And, for a moment, I forgot the lawsuits, the lies, and the terrible sadness waiting at home.
