At My Mother’s Funeral, a Woman Slipped a Baby Into My Arms and Said, ‘She Wanted You to Have Him’
Across the room, Aunt Karen’s voice filtered in. “Yes, Nadia’s home for now. She’s doing fine.” I heard her sigh deeply. “No, she’s not staying. Not really.”
“She should have at least asked me.”
As the last guest left, I carried Lucas and his diaper bag upstairs to my old bedroom. The walls still held old book posters, dust, and lemon polish. I paused outside the door, listening as Karen and Brittany’s voices drifted from the hall.
“She can’t keep him, Karen. It doesn’t matter what Kathleen tried to do, but Nadia’s life isn’t here anymore.”
