The second my mother took the phone, her voice was sharp.
“Don’t turn this into something it wasn’t.”
I looked at my husband. He had pushed himself upright despite everything that had brought us to the hospital that Christmas.
“Then tell me what it was,” I said.
She insisted she thought I was still nearby. She said she believed I would come back when I realized the girls weren’t inside.
But my father spoke behind her.
“That’s not what happened.”
My mother told him to stop.
He didn’t.
He admitted that after the door closed, he had gone to the window and watched my daughters reach the end of the driveway. He had wanted to call them back, but my mother told him that if he opened the door, I would never learn to stop assuming they would help.
My husband held out his hand for the phone, but I shook my head.
I needed to hear the rest myself.
Then my father said there was one more reason my mother had been so determined to keep that door closed, and it had nothing to do with babysitting.
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Type DOOR and I’ll post Part 3.
ANSWER ” DOOR ” IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE WATCHING THE FULL ST0RY IN PART 3
