“Number all of this, coming, working, acting like you’re a different person.”
He chewed slowly before answering.
“Because when I lost you, I realized I had lost the only person who really knew me. The only one who loved me unconditionally.”
“I loved you unconditionally until you put conditions on it.”
“I know. And I also realized something else.”
“What?”
“That I never really knew you. I thought you were just my mom, the woman who took care of me. But you’re so much more than that.”
He looked around, seeing the thriving business, the improvements to the house, the new energy, and everything.
“You’re a businesswoman. You’re a leader. You’re a woman who can build an incredible life from scratch. And I was so blind, I didn’t see it.”
His words reached me, but I didn’t let myself get carried away by emotion.
“And what do you want to do with that information?”
“I want to get to know you for real, as the person you are, not as the idea I had of you.”
“That’s going to take time.”
“I have time.”
He finished his work and left without asking for anything more, without asking when he could come back, without suggesting we eat together, without trying to force an intimacy that no longer existed.
Over the next few months, David came every 2 weeks. He always called before. He always came to work. He fixed the roof of the chicken coupe, painted the fence, helped build a new storage area for the business. Helen watched him with the prudence of an older woman who has seen many broken promises.
“What do you think of him?” I asked her one afternoon.
“he’s trying to be different. But time will tell if it’s real or just an act.”
“How can I tell the difference?”
