Chapter 7: The Son She Found Too Late
I told Mrs. Rhode about foster homes. About loneliness. About never planning too far ahead because losing things hurt less when you never fully believed they would stay.
One evening, she muted the television and stared at me hard.
“You only ever think about surviving the next month, James. Don’t you have dreams?”
I shrugged awkwardly. “I guess… maybe I’d like to move up at the diner someday.”
“Well,” she replied dryly, “that’s tragically uninspiring, but at least it’s something.”
That winter, she handed me a pair of green knitted socks so ugly they looked radioactive.
“I made these,” she grumbled. “So your feet don’t freeze.”
Joe noticed me rushing off after work every night. “You dating somebody?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m helping Mrs. Rhode.”
He nearly dropped a coffee pot laughing. But when I explained everything, he nodded once and said, “She likes you. That’s not nothing.”… Continue Reading ⬇️