"Is he?" Mom said, her face going from me to Ben and back again, the look of expectant hope lighting up the left side of her face.
"Your grandson," Kristin confirmed from the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and taking in the scene. Her smile was apprehensive, her body tense waiting for the inevitable barrage of demanding questions.
But none came. Instead, Dad scooped Ben up and carried him to my mother, placing him in her lap. I swear to God, I never thought I'd see her this happy again. Those extra twenty years disappeared just like that.
When I turned around, Kristin had disappeared back into the kitchen.
She froze when she heard my footsteps behind her.
"Thanks," I said. "This is . . . ."
I let the words hang, but she got the picture. Her whole body relaxed and she continue
