And if she didn’t answer, Lily did.
My granddaughter was seven years old and had no respect for privacy or adult timing. If Claire’s phone rang and she saw my name on the screen, she liked to grab it first and yell, “Grandma! Guess what?” before anyone could stop her. Sometimes she told me about spelling tests. Sometimes she told me what cereal she wanted. Once she called just to announce that her tooth was loose and she had named it Franklin.
That was the rhythm of my life. Imperfect, noisy, alive.
Then it stopped.
The first day, I told myself Claire was busy.
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