I didn’t predict any visitors that day, so when I heard the doorbell ring, I concerned who it might be. To my surprise, I witnessed my daughter, Jane, and my grandson, Tommy.
“Mom, I need a favor,” she said.
“I need you to look after Tommy for a few weeks. Maybe a bit more than that.”
When I spotted she carried a huge suitcase, I understood something serious was going on.
Jane wasn’t someone who asked favors lightly, so this was a bit bizarre. But I didn’t ask any questions. I just gave her a hug and made a vow she would stay safe.
Worry was written all over her face, but when she told me she would be on a work mission, I decided to trust her.
My grandson was high-energy person. He was sweet, curious, and easy to entertain, so I wasn’t upset by the fact he would be staying with me for a couple of weeks.
We played games, read stories, and enjoyed his favorite food.
At one moment, he knocked over the juice all over his t-shirt, so I went upstairs to take a new one from the suitcase my daughter left.
When I unboxed it, my heart competed faster than ever. Inside were clothes for all seasons. Jackets and gloves on the top, and then shorts and flip flops underneath.
At the bottom, there was an envelope with my name written on it. It was full of cash; more money than I have ever seen in my life.
This only meant one thing: Jane wasn’t coming back anytime soon, if ever.
I tried calling her several times but was unsuccessful.
Days passed by, and my grandson began to worry where his mother was.
I contacted Jane’s colleagues, friends, and even her previous roommate, but no one heard back from her. It was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Then, one day, my phone rang. It was my daughter asking to speak to my grandson. She escaped answering any of my questions. She just asked from me to trust her and that she would come back. I tell her to promise to me that she would return safe and sound. After she talked to Tommy, she blocked. When I tried to return her call, she didn’t answer.
Jane’s story…
I would say he was the product of a fling that wasn’t meant to last whenever someone asked about my son’s father,. But the truth was much darker than that.
Tommy’s father was a very serious man who was involved with the mafia and some of the most celebrated criminals. When I dated him, I had no idea how terrible he was. Following our split, I never told him I was carrying his child. To be honest, I hadn’t even heard from him until one day when he called and told me he was in town again.
The thought of him learning that he had a son was frightening all by itself. I knew he would want to take him from me, so I had to conceal him.
That’s why I took all of his clothes and belongings. I even removed every photo of him from my house in case Alex appeared out of the blue.
What I knew was that Tommy would be safe with the only person I ever trusted, his grandma.
I prayed Alex leave town as soon as possible, so that I could be with my son again.
When my daughter returned to take my grandson, she appeared fatigued. She appeared to have aged in just a few months. I never questioned her decision; I was only relieved that she had returned safely.
