I move around the front of the truck and up the pathway to my porch.
“Shanice? What?—”
“Grandma!” four-year-old Randy squeals, wrapping his arms around my legs in a hug.
I bend low to kiss his cheek. “Hi, baby.”
I pick him up, cradling him to me before looking back at my daughter. She’s holding one-year-old Charlotte in her arms.
“M-M-Mom, I didn’t know you were out of t-town,” Shanice stutters.
I look her over, my heart instantly aching. Her eyes are bloodshot as if she’s been crying, up all night, or both. And she’s stuttering.
It’s a speech disorder she had as a child but only comes on now when she’s highly emotional, read: upset about something.
Shanice is typically the most poised, composed person you would ever meet.
Yet, now as I watch her, she avoids my eyes. Instead, she looks down at the bottom of the stairs.
“Oh, this is Joel,” I say, moving to Joel who’s obviously followed me out of the truck. “He’s my next-door neighbor,” I say. “You remember, the neighbor who helped me when I fell out of the shower over a month ago.”
I look between Joel and Shanice.
Joel tips his head. “Shanice,” he greets. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hello,” Shanice greets with a small, humorless smile. Her voice comes out so small that it breaks my heart.
“We were just coming back from a weekend together,” I tell her. It’s obvious he and I are more than neighbors, but given Shanice’s state at the moment, I choose not to go into detail.
“Um …” I glance around and then go to the door, unlocking it. I place Randy down inside of the door.
“Go in,” I tell Shanice. “I’m just going to say goodnight to Joel.”
She nods and heads inside without a word. I watch her for a moment, taking in the slouch of her shoulders looking as if the weight of the world rests on top of her.
“I had no idea she was coming,” I tell Joel after closing the door. “I’m sorry I didn’t properly introduce you two?—”
“Shh-shh,” he tells me with a palm at the side of my face. Leaning in, Joel brushes his lips across mine. “Go take care of your daughter.”
He steps back and nods at my suitcases he’s placed right by the door.
“Thank you.”
“Love you,” he says again before taking a step back and then down the porch.
I watch as he climbs back into his truck.
One last wave before I go inside to find out what’s wrong with my baby girl.
“I shouldn’t have droppedin on you like this,” Shanice says, pacing back and forth in my living room.
I’ve just returned from the spare bedroom, putting Randy down after feeding him some yogurt and reading him a book. A glance down reveals Charlotte, who’s been asleep this entire time, resting on her back on the baby blanket Shanice has laid her on top of.
I move over to her and brush my hand over her hair. She squirms a little and then turns over so her head faces the opposite direction.
The tea kettle I started begins whistling. I rush from the living room to the kitchen to turn the kettle off before it wakes the children.
After pouring two cups of hot chocolate, I bring both back into the living room to set one of them on the coasters on the table before going over to a still-pacing Shanice.
