Meeting Mrs. Carter
She smiled warmly as she opened the door of the retirement home.
“My dear! How’s the little house treating you?”
“It’s wonderful.” I hesitated. “I have an unusual question.”
She laughed. “Those are usually the interesting ones.”
I pulled out my phone. “Did your husband look like this?”
Her smile vanished. Tears filled her eyes instantly.
“Oh…” She touched the screen gently. “That’s Tom.”
“You recognize him?”
“I’d recognize that face anywhere.” She stared at it for a long moment. “He passed away six years ago.”
My stomach tightened.
She shook her head, a small smile forming. “He checked every window before bed.” She laughed softly. “He’d walk through the house at night making sure everyone was safe.”
Exactly what Ellie had described.
Mrs. Carter reached into a drawer. “I think…” She handed me an old photo album.
Inside were dozens of pictures — Tom in his overalls, Tom holding tools, Tom smiling beside a little girl. One photograph made me gasp: his favorite stuffed rabbit, sitting on his granddaughter’s lap. Identical to Ellie’s bunny.
Mrs. Carter smiled. “He repaired toys whenever they fell apart.”
