Chapter 15
The drive back to New York was quiet and uneventful, the three of us lost in our own contemplations and concerns. I saw my father and Cynthia sneak peeks at me, checking on me, making sure I was all right. “Do you need anything?” they’d ask me, and I’d shake my head and watch the early winter sky. During that drive I learned what it means to be grateful. I was going home after I thought home had been lost to me forever, and I knew how lucky I was.
The red-brown brownstone became my haven again, except now it was an appreciated haven, not one taken for granted as it once was. I touched the walls like I hadn’t seen them for years and I was trying to trigger the memory of what this place had meant to me. As soon as I was in the living room Mrs. Harris ran to me, crying and huggin
