Every instinct told me something was wrong.
Still, I stepped onto the porch.
[BE LIKE]The front room was small but clean. A worn couch sat against one wall. Children’s books were stacked inside a plastic crate near the television.
I noticed them immediately.
Then I noticed the tiny blue sneakers near the hallway.
My chest tightened.
“Do you have a child?”
Sadie froze.
Jasper walked toward the hallway and disappeared around the corner.
Before she could answer, a small voice called from another room.
“Mommy?”
I looked at Sadie.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Then a little boy came around the corner.
He looked about three years old.
He wore dinosaur pajamas even though it was the middle of the afternoon. His brown hair stuck up on one side.
He stopped when he saw me.
I forgot how to breathe.
There was something about his face.
Something painfully familiar.
His eyes.
The shape of his mouth.
The way one eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other.
Caleb used to make that exact expression when he was confused.
The boy pointed at me.
“Who’s that?”
Sadie’s voice shook.
“This is Diane.”
The little boy smiled.
“Hi.”
I couldn’t answer.
I looked at Sadie.
“No.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Diane.”
“No.”
“I wanted to tell you.”
My hands began trembling.
“Tell me what?”
She looked at the little boy.
“Beau, sweetheart, can you go play with Jasper?”
He hesitated.
“Can I have crackers?”
“Yes.”
“Two?”
Sadie gave a weak smile.
“Two.”
He disappeared toward the kitchen with Jasper following behind him.
I waited until he was gone.
Then I faced her.
“Tell me.”
Sadie sat down slowly.
I remained standing.
“Beau is Caleb’s son.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the back of a chair.
“What?”
Sadie wiped her face.
“I found out I was pregnant after Caleb died.”
I stared at her.
Every sound around me became distant.
A refrigerator hummed.
A dog collar jingled somewhere in the kitchen.
A child opened a cabinet.
I heard all of it.
Yet I could barely understand the woman sitting five feet away from me.
“You knew for three years?”
“I didn’t know before the accident.”
“But you knew afterward.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
Her face crumpled.
“I was scared.”
I stepped away from the chair.
“Scared of what?”
“Everything.”
Her voice cracked.
