CHAPTER TWENTY
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I've been working non-stop all day, and I can't believe it's already getting late. The mother of the child is supposed to arrive soon, but I haven't seen her yet. I start to worry, wondering if something has happened to her.
I try to distract myself by playing with the toddler, but l can't help think of worst-case scenarios. Where is she? Why is she late?
Just as I'm starting to get really anxious, the door opens and the mother walks in. But something's off. She's wearing sunglasses, which seems strange, and she doesn't even apologize for being late.
"Put the child on the couch and make sure you come early tomorrow."
I'm taken aback by her tone, but I try to stay professional. I place the child on the couch and start to gather my things, but I can't help feeling frustrated. Doesn't she care that I've been worried sick about her?
As I turn to leave, I want to ask her what's going on, but something about her demeanor makes me hold back. I bite my tongue and walk out the door, feeling uneasy and confused.
What is going on with this young lady? And why did she seem so...off? I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.
As I walk through the front door, I'm greeted by the sight of my mother sitting on the couch, her face resting on her cheek. She looks up and sees me, and her expression changes from worry to relaxation.
Her : Oh my goodness, where have you been?
she exclaims, jumping up from the couch and rushing over to me. She wraps me in a tight hug.
Her : I was worried sick about you! I thought something terrible had happened to you.
I laugh and hug her back .
Me :Mom, I'm fine. I just got a job and I was at work.
My mother pulls back and looks at me with a mixture of surprise and excitement.
Her : A job? That's wonderful ,Congratulations!
I smile, feeling proud of myself.
Me :Thanks, Mom. I'm really happy about it.
My mother smiles back and hugs me again.
Her :I'm so proud of you . You're going to do great things. Tell me all about your job. What's it like?
I take a deep breath and launch into a detailed account of my day, telling my mother about the child I took care of and the mother who seemed so...off. My mother listens attentively, asking questions and making supportive noises
After my mother retires to bed, I decide to check on the kids before I go to bed myself. I walk into my daughter's room first, and she's fast asleep. I gently kiss her forehead.
Next, I head to my son's room. He's also asleep, but as I approach his bed, I notice something on his desk. I walk over to investigate and find a drawing he's done. I pick it up, and my heart swells with pride and happiness.
The drawing is of our family - my son, daughter, mother, and me. We're all smiling and happy, and it's clear that my son put a lot of thought and love into this picture.
He's no longer drawing traumatic scenes. His therapy is really helping him work through his emotions, and it's amazing to see him heal and grow.
I smile, feeling grateful for this moment of peace and happiness. I gently place the drawing back on his desk and kiss his forehead.
We've been through so much, but we're healing and moving forward together. And that's all that matters.
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