Page 4 of When Love Is Lost and Found

I let him talk, but once he was done, I hung up the phone and ignored his subsequent attempts to reach me, never intending to collect Jimmy's life insurance.

When Mrs. Bowman called me in February, I tried to make her understand why I wanted nothing to do with that money.

"Our son loved you," she said. "It's that simple. We understand and support his decision to include you."

"I don't want it," I finally said, frustrated and angry.

"Not taking the money will not bring him back, Sweetheart. We know you want to leave California. You have our support and our blessing. Take the money and go."

"Thank you," I said, closing my eyes and trying to keep the tears at bay.

***

When Rick drops me off at the airport, he hugs me and wishes me good luck.

"Please call us," he says. "Let us know you got there safely and give us your contact information."

"I will," I say, smiling. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," he says. "And, Sharon, your mom will come around."

I nod and give him a weak smile but don't say anything because, despite his words, I know that'll never happen.

I pick up my suitcase and walk into the airport, feeling like a new chapter in my life is welcoming me with open arms. I pray it'll be better.

I look around, searching for the Linder family. I spot Noah first. When he sees me, he lets go of his mother's hand and makes a beeline towards me, running at full speed.

"Hi, Noah!" I exclaim, picking him up and hugging him close.

"You're coming with us, Shay-Shay?" He asks, using the nickname he gave me when we first met. His little voice pulls at my heartstrings.

"Of course I'm coming with you," I say.

"Why?" he said, "You don't live with us."

"I know," I say. "But you know what? I would miss you if you left, so I'm going with you, and I'm going to live with you, too."

"Yeah!" he exclaims, his face lighting up with joy. "I love you, Shay-Shay!"

"I love you too," I say before putting him down. I take his hand, and we make our way to the long check-in line, where his parents are waiting and motioning for us to join them.

Mr. Linder is a tall, handsome man in his mid-fifties with a low-maintenance, salt-and-pepper crew cut and a short beard. I know he's a good person because he has gentle gray eyes that exude kindness. He wears a suit to work every day, and in the evenings, I could always find him in his office still wearing his crisp white dress shirt and tie. Noah's playroom was next to his office, and the walls were thin, so I knew he worked in real estate. I could hear him making offers, scheduling open houses, and discussing listings with his secretary, Sandy. From what I gather, he has invested in real estate here and in New York going back at least a couple of decades.

Mrs. Linder is younger—maybe in her early forties—and a college professor. She's beautiful in a sophisticated, regal sort of way. Her thick honey-blond hair is shoulder-length and always pulled back in a low bun. Her eyes are a dark cinnamon. When she's not wearing her staple silk blouse with slacks and matching pumps, she wears a long T-shirt over leggings and Reebok running shoes for her short runs and long workouts at the gym.

One day, as she was heading out, she walked by the playroom and poked her head in. "I'll be right back," she said. "Thanks to Noah, I'm still trying to lose this baby fat around my middle." She pinched her side, trying to grab fat that simply wasn't there. Noah looked up from his toys and stared at her, tilting his head to the side. I'm sure he was wondering what she was thanking him for, but he still gave her a polite "You're welcome, Mommy."

Mrs. Linder laughed out loud and said, "I love you, Noah," before waving goodbye and heading out the door.

***

On the plane, I'm seated next to Noah and a woman who reminds me of my late grandmother, Katherine. My grandma was my best friend. She loved me more than anyone else in the world. She passed away two years before Dad. I'm glad she was gone and didn't have to experience losing her son. The accident was not my fault, but neither my mother nor I can ever forgive me for it.

I can see the Linders from my aisle seat. They're a couple of rows in front of us, and the stewardess has just taken their drink order. They're relaxed and deep in conversation. Mr. Linder is laughing out loud at something Mrs. Linder said. They might not talk to me, but they sure do talk to each other and appear to be happy.

The Linders are private people. My brief conversations with them are mostly about Noah and his daily activities. His schedule is booked from eight in the morning to eight in the evening, Monday through Friday. On Saturday, Mr. Linder lets me borrow one of his cars, and I take Noah to his swimming lessons and then to the park. Sunday is my day off. The Linders go to church, and I go to the cemetery to visit Jimmy's grave.

Well, not after today. I'm on my way to Garrison, New York, and I'm never coming back.

---