PART 2
Her name was Rosa.
She made tea neither of us drank, and I sat on a sagging couch in that small house, and the little boy played on the floor with the dog, and Rosa told me about the year of my son’s life I never knew existed.
“I met Caleb at the community college,” she said. “The spring before. We were both in the automotive program.
I didn’t have papers to be there, really — long story, my family’s situation was complicated — and I kept to myself.
But Caleb didn’t let anyone keep to themselves. You know how he was.”
I did know how he was.
He collected people. Strays. The kid nobody sat with. The old man at the hardware store.
Once he brought home a boy from school who had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving and never explained it, just set another place.
“We fell in love,” Rosa said simply. “Fast. The way you do at nineteen.
He wanted to bring me to meet you. He talked about you constantly — Diane this, my mom that.
But my situation was so uncertain, and I was scared, and I kept asking him to wait.
Just until I got things sorted. Just until it was safe.
That’s the worst regret of my life, that I kept telling him to wait.”
She looked at the little boy on the floor.
“I found out I was pregnant two weeks before the accident.
I told Caleb on a Tuesday.
He cried, and then he laughed, and then he said — ” her voice broke ” — he said, ‘Okay. That’s it. No more waiting. I’m telling my mom this weekend. She’s going to lose her mind. She’s always wanted to be a grandma.'”
I put my hand over my mouth.
“The accident was that Friday,” Rosa whispered. “He was driving to pick up a crib. A used one, off someone selling it across town. He was so excited he couldn’t wait for the weekend.
He had the dog with him — Biscuit, this one, he’d found him as a puppy behind the shop.
Biscuit survived. Caleb didn’t.”
The dog, hearing his name, rested his chin on Rosa’s foot.
“He was on his way to get a crib for your grandson,” Rosa said, “when he di.ed.
He never got to tell you.
And I was too frightened and too ashamed and too alone to be the one who did.
So I disappeared. I had the baby by myself. I named him Caleb.
We call him Cal.”
Cal.
The little boy looked up at the sound, and smiled Caleb’s exact smile, and my heart came apart and stitched itself back together in the same instant.
“How does the dog—” I started.
“I don’t know,” Rosa said, and for the first time she almost smiled. “I honestly don’t know, Diane.
Biscuit disappears for hours. I always assumed the park.
Then a few months ago I followed him, same as you did today.
He goes to the grave. Every day. He lies down next to Caleb.
I think he’s still waiting for him to come get the crib.
And I think today, he finally decided that if Caleb couldn’t come to us, he’d bring you instead.”
