I did the carrying and the storing of Ellen's things, but we somehow made it home before Theresa needed changing again. I think we held on to Theresa for almost a week before her mother was turned loose. We got two little boys, brothers, the next time. There have been so many over the years, that most of their names have faded from my memory. Not Ellen's though, she remembers them all, and has photos of them too. On the back of the pictures she would write the date that we got them and the date that they left, their birth dates and how tall they were, with lots of little comments and notations about each one. For years, when she was having her monthlies, she'd get out one of her big picture albums and sit there looking at page after page of pictures of 'her' children. I'm not sure whether it helped her or it hurt her, probably some of each. Over the years, we've had our ups and downs. We argue a lot, mostly to a stand off, but sometimes one of us will decide to leave for a short. She arrives at the cottage dressed in a 3/4th pants and loose casual shirt and a long overcoat, nervous and excited all at the same time. She can’t wait to see him. Will he still like her? Has she gained weight since he’s seen her? Does he care how she looks on the out side? She turns the car off, takes a deep breath, and opens the door to her car and starts to walk towards the designated cottage. She pauses before knocking and takes another breath of cold air. She can’t believe it’s been a year since he’s touched her with those hands. She closes her eyes and tries to remember the last time they were together, remembering it was the last night she was in Trident Hotel on the way to Chennai airport. She said her good-byes, as did he. She wished she could have traveled with him. Something behind her snaps and she opens her eyes to realize she’d been standing there for quite a while, with her hand rested against the door. She slowly knocked on the door and waited. She heard a voice from.
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