“Good.”
Lisa would never again have control over Walter’s safety or his money.
Weeks later, Walter caught me searching the kitchen.
“You’re doing it again.”
He held up my glasses.
“Beside the toaster.”
“I knew that.”
“You checked the refrigerator.”
“I was looking for milk.”
“We don’t need milk.”
I took the glasses from him. “Go get your backpack.”
He grinned. “One day you’ll lose me like you lose your glasses.”
I put them on and pulled him closer.
“No chance.”
His face sharpened into perfect focus.
My eyesight had been poor for years.
But the thing I had truly failed to see had never been blurry.
I had spent years making excuses for Lisa because she was my daughter.
I wouldn’t make those excuses at Walter’s expense anymore.
