By morning, I heard Alfie open the bedroom door. He must not have expected me to be awake because he hesitated for a second before scrambling for an excuse.
“I fell asleep watching TV in the living room,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t even realize it. You’re up early.”
I didn’t acknowledge his excuse. Instead, I asked, “Alfie, is it snowing outside?”
His hand paused inside the closet before he pulled out a thick winter coat. He rubbed his nose and muttered, “Yeah, it’s cold. You should stay in. If you catch a cold, Mom will start nagging again.”
With that, he grabbed his coat and hurried out of the room.
I watched him rush off to see Shirley, and the cold in my heart stung far worse than the frost outside.
But this was my first snowfall since regaining my sight. I wanted to see it too.
When I stepped into the living room, my mother-in-law was fastening the zipper of Shirley’s puffer jacket, her face full of warmth and affection—the way a mother looks at her beloved daughter-in-law.
“Shirley is such a beautiful girl,” she beamed. “If only she could be my daughter-in-law.”
Her words were a dagger straight through my heart.