Chapter 4
Mara moved quietly toward the door. I glanced at her.
“Don't go.”
She remained.
For a while, the three of us sat together without discussing what had happened. Mom asked about the baby. Mara complained about hospital coffee. I told them that one of my nurses believed babies reacted to orange juice during monitoring, which resulted in Mara announcing that her future niece or nephew already had questionable taste.
Normal conversation. It felt almost foreign.
Eventually, Mom touched the edge of the quilt. “I owe you an apology.”
I stared at her. “For what?”
“For believing distance was the same thing as respecting your wishes.”
“You were respecting my wishes.”
“Yes.” She looked down. “But sometimes I used that as an excuse because I didn't know what to do.”
“Mom—”
“I should have kept finding ways to remind you I was here.”
“I told you not to call.”
“I know.”
“I said horrible things.”
“I know that too.”
Mara cleared her throat. “Mom.”
“What?”
“You could soften that.”
Mom gave her a tired look. “Your sister knows what she said.”
For the first time that morning, I laughed. Mom smiled. Then the smile faded.
“You sounded so much like me.”
I stopped. “What?”
Her hands folded together. Mara looked at her sharply.
“Mom, not today.”
But something in the room had changed. I saw it immediately.
“What does that mean?”
Mom shook her head. “Another day.”
“No.” My voice was quiet. “Please.”
Mara crossed her arms. “She's exhausted.”
“I know.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because I'm apparently incapable of speaking intelligently before coffee.”
Despite everything, that sounded exactly like our mother. But I was watching her face.
“You said I sounded like you.”
Mom sighed. “When I was younger, I spent a long time pretending something was better than it was.”
“My father?”
May you like
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
