Chapter 19 - Sunlight Restored
For the next two days, the storm clouds that had followed me from Illinois seemed to lift completely.
Linda and I walked along the riverfront in Belém, eating warm egg tarts sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar. We took the historic yellow tram up the winding hills of Alfama, listening to the melancholy strains of Fado music drifting from open tavern windows. For the first time in nearly a decade, the invisible weight on my shoulders—the perpetual worry about whether I was doing enough, being enough, giving enough to Caleb’s household—began to dissolve.
I had loved Caleb with every fiber of my being since the moment he was placed in my arms thirty-four years ago. But loving a child does not mean allowing yourself to be consumed by the fire of their poor choices.
On our final night in Lisbon, Linda and I sat on the hotel balcony, watching the city lights glitter across the Tagus River. The air was cool, carrying the scent of salt and eucalyptus.
My phone chimed with a video call notification.
I picked it up. It was Leo, my seven-year-old grandson.
I quickly accepted the call, propping the phone against a wine glass. Leo’s face filled the screen, messy brown curls flopping over his forehead, missing his front tooth. Behind him, three-year-old Maya was happily banging plastic spoons against a pot on the kitchen floor.
"Grandma!" Leo cheered, his eyes lighting up. "Are you in the castle city?!"
"I am, sweet boy," I said, my heart swelling with genuine warmth. "Look out the window behind me. See those lights? That's Lisbon."
"Whoa," Leo breathed, pressing his face closer to the camera. "Daddy made us pancakes for dinner! But he burned two of them. Aunt Patrice had to help him scrape the black parts off."
Caleb’s face appeared in the frame behind Leo, looking worn out but smiling—a real, genuine smile I hadn't seen on his face in years.
"Hey, Mom," Caleb said softly. "The kids wanted to say goodnight before bed."
"Are you holding up, Caleb?" I asked.
"We are," Caleb nodded. "The lawyer filed the preliminary emergency motions today. Tori landed in Chicago three hours ago. Her sister picked her up at O’Hare. She’s staying at a motel on the outskirts of town."
"Has she tried to see the kids?"
"The court granted a temporary protective order until the hearing next week," Caleb said, his voice firm, sounding more like a father than he ever had before. "She can't come within five hundred feet of the house or the school. Mom... thank you. If you had saved her in Lisbon, this nightmare would have dragged on for another five years."
"You did this yourself, Caleb," I told him. "You finally protected your family."
May you like
"I did," he whispered. "Leo, tell Grandma what you found in the study today."
***
