My Mother

her. He wanted space between my mother and Lily.

But I was too tired. Too angry. Too done.

“No,” I said. “She can leave.”

My mother’s face changed.

It did not twist. It did not explode. It smoothed out.

That was worse.

She reached for her purse, then stopped and looked at Lily.

“You know,” she said quietly, “all of this drama over a child who will be fine continue reading …