Fifteen Years After My Divorce, I Found My Ex-Mother-in-Law Digging Through a Dumpster

His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and his eyes scanned the loading dock like he expected to be chased off.

Like he’d learned to be ready to run.

“This is… um,” Dorothy started.

“It’s okay,” I said, lowering myself so I wasn’t towering over him. “Hi.

My name is Dana.”

He nodded. “Hi. I’m Eli.”

I smiled at him.

“Are you hungry?”

He looked at Dorothy. She nodded.

“A little,” he said.

That was all it took.

Dorothy opened her mouth to argue. I could see it in her face, all the reasons she was about to give me for why that was a bad idea.

“No arguments, not tonight,” I added.

“Tonight, you eat. You sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

That night, they slept in beds.

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