When the Eight-Year-Old Boy We Were Adopting Came Home With Everything He Owned in a Black Bag—Then My Missing Brother’s Watch Fell Onto His Bed

You could have just called.

But he didn’t.

His son does.

And when my phone rings and Oliver says:

“Mom, are you home?”

I usually answer:

“Yes.”

Then:

“Do you need something?”

Sometimes he does.

Sometimes he only wants to talk.

Either way, he knows the way back.