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Part 2: Scout
I sat down on Lena’s front step. My legs wouldn’t hold me.
Scout lay down beside me. He put his head in my lap.
Lena sat down on the other side of the step. The little boy climbed into her arms. He stared at me.
She told me everything.
She met Caleb in high school. They were together for two years. He never told me.
She said, He wanted to. He was going to bring me home for Thanksgiving. He said you’d love me.
She said, I was seventeen when I found out I was pregnant. My stepdad said if I had the baby, I couldn’t live in his house.
Caleb found this rental. He was working two jobs to pay for it.
She said, We got Scout from the shelter. Caleb said every kid should have a dog.
Then she said, quietly, The night of the accident, he was driving over here. I’d called him. I was having contractions. Early.
He was coming to take me to the hospital.
She started to cry.
She said, I had Eli alone. Two days after the funeral.
I thought you’d blame me. I thought you’d hate me. If I hadn’t called him, he’d still be alive.
So I never came to you.
I couldn’t speak. I just reached out and held her hand.
The little boy looked at me. He said, quietly, Doggy goes to see Daddy.
Lena said, Scout started walking to the cemetery a few months ago. I don’t know how he found it. Caleb used to walk him past it every morning. On the way to work.
I looked down at the dog with his head in my lap.
He’d been walking twenty minutes every day. To lie beside my son.
I stayed for three hours. Eli brought me every toy he owned. He climbed into my lap. He fell asleep there.
That night, I called my ex-husband, Greg. Caleb’s father. We hadn’t spoken much since the funeral.
I told him everything.
He was quiet for a long time.
Then he said, Diane, you can’t just believe some girl because a kid has curly hair.
He said, She’s probably after money. Caleb’s life insurance. Did you think of that?
He said, I want a DNA test before you give her anything.
I kept my voice calm.
Greg, I said, he has Caleb’s eyes. He has Caleb’s dimple.
He said, Lots of kids have dimples.
He said, I’m calling a lawyer.
Then he said something that made me sit down.
He said, Caleb called me. A week before he died. He said he had something important to tell us at Thanksgiving.
I told him I was too busy to talk.
Part 3: Three Years
I didn’t sleep that night. I sat in Caleb’s old bedroom. And I let myself count.
Three years since the accident.
A hundred and fifty-six Sundays at the cemetery. I never missed one.
I counted the things I never knew about my son.
He had a girlfriend for two years. He worked two jobs. He rented a house. He adopted a dog.
He was going to be a father.
He told me he was working late at the auto shop. Saving for college.
He was saving for diapers.
I counted his last week. He called me twice. I was busy both times. I said, Let’s talk at Thanksgiving.
He died eleven days before Thanksgiving.
Then I counted Lena.
Seventeen years old. Pregnant. Thrown out of her house.
Nineteen when her boyfriend died driving to take her to the hospital.
She gave birth alone. Two days after his funeral. She didn’t go to the funeral. She was in labor.
For three years, she raised Caleb’s son alone. In a house he’d rented for them. Working at a grocery store.
She never asked anyone for anything.
Then I counted Eli.
Two and a half years old. My grandson.
I missed his birth. His first word. His first step. His first birthday. His second.
Then I counted Scout.
Three years old. The dog Caleb picked from the shelter.
Every day for months, he walked twenty minutes across town. To lie beside his person.
He’s the one who brought me home.
The next morning, Greg called again.
He said, I’ve talked to a lawyer. If that boy is Caleb’s, we have grandparent rights.
He said, We could ask for custody. That girl can barely support him.
Part 4: Greg
Greg came to my house that afternoon. He brought a folder.
He sat at my kitchen table. He opened it.
Inside were papers. About grandparent visitation. About custody petitions.
He said, If the DNA test proves it, we have options. That girl is twenty-two. She works at a grocery store. She lives in a rental falling apart.
He said, We could give that boy a real life. A good school. A safe house.
He said, It’s what Caleb would want.
Then he said, She hid him from us for three years. That tells you everything about her.
Then he said the thing he came to say.
Help me get custody. We lost our son. We shouldn’t lose our grandson too.
I felt that one land. It was meant to.
Because I’d already lost so much time. Two and a half years of it.
I took a slow breath.
Greg, I said quietly, I want to be in Eli’s life. More than anything.
He nodded.
But Lena isn’t keeping him from us anymore, I said. She opened her door. She cried on her front step. She let me hold him.
She hid him because she was nineteen and terrified. She thought we’d blame her for Caleb.
Greg’s face tightened.
I’m not going to try to take her son away, I said gently. Caleb loved her. He rented that house for her. He was driving to her when he died.
If we try to take Eli, we’ll lose them both. And we’ll deserve it.
Greg started to argue.
Then I said, quietly, Greg. Caleb called you. A week before he died.
You were too busy.
Greg went very still.
Then his eyes filled with tears. He put his face in his hands.
He said, very softly, He was going to tell me he was going to be a father.
And I told him I was busy.
Part 5: Sundays
Greg cried at my kitchen table for a long time.
Then he closed the folder. He put it back in his briefcase.
He said, I want to meet him. That’s all.
We went to Lena’s house together the next Sunday. Scout met us at the gate.
Eli was shy with Greg at first. He hid behind his mother.
Then Greg sat down on the floor. He picked up a toy truck. He made engine noises.
Eli laughed. The same laugh Caleb had at two.
Greg had to leave the room for a minute.
We did a DNA test anyway. Lena asked for it. She said she wanted Greg to know for sure.
It came back in two weeks. Ninety-nine point nine percent.
Greg cried again when he read it. So did Lena.
I helped Lena move into a better rental that spring. Two bedrooms. A fenced yard for Scout. Closer to my house.
Greg pays Eli’s daycare now. So Lena could go back to school. She’s studying to be a dental hygienist. She graduates next year.
Greg and I started having dinner together once a month. For Eli. We talk about Caleb. We laugh sometimes.
Every Sunday now, we go to the cemetery together.
Me. Lena. Eli. Greg. And Scout.
Scout runs ahead. He knows the way. He always lies down in the same spot. Right beside Caleb’s headstone.
Last Sunday, Eli brought something. A drawing.
A stick figure man. A stick figure dog. And a little boy in the middle. Holding both their hands.
He laid it carefully against the headstone.
Then he patted the stone with his little hand.
He said, Hi, Daddy. Scout brought Grandma.
I knelt down beside my grandson. I put my arm around him.
Scout pressed his head into my lap. Just like the first day.
For three years, I thought I’d lost everything Caleb left behind.
I was wrong.
He left a son. A girl he loved. And a scruffy brown dog.
Who walked twenty minutes every day.
Until I finally followed him home.
