Chapter 18 - Eli Becomes a Father
Eli was thirty-two when he called:
“Mom.”
Something in tone.
“What?”
“Grace is pregnant.”
His wife Grace Miller.
I screamed.
He laughed.
Months later daughter Sophie Carter was born.
I became Grandma Megan.
The first time I held her, I thought of gravel.
Hated myself for letting trauma intrude.
Then let thought pass.
Eli became protective father.
Not obsessive.
Mostly.
When Sophie was three, she loved helping.
“Job!”
She shouted whenever adults did anything.
Eli would assign safe tasks:
Carry napkins.
Pick socks.
Hold closed flashlight.
Choose music.
One day he was loading car.
Sophie:
“Job?”
He stopped.
Looked at me.
Then:
“Yes. Stand with Grandma on porch and tell me when you see red car.”
Safe and far.
I almost cried.
He rolled eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re making face.”
“Sorry.”
Then later:
“Do you think accident made me weird?”
“No.”
“Sometimes I remember.”
“Of course.”
Then:
“I don’t feel scared backing car.”
Good.
“I just never put kids near.”
Good.
He learned safety without remaining trapped in fear.
Then Sophie found blue foam floating keychain at hardware store.
“Daddy!”
She wanted.
Eli bought it.
I watched.
He attached to beach-bag key.
No reaction.
Symbol fully ordinary.
Then he said:
“You okay?”
May you like
“Yes.”
This time true.
