“I’m glad you said something,” she told me.
“So am I.”
The carriage was still hot.
She smiled.
“Honestly, I wish I’d spoken up sooner.”
“You helped when I asked. Thank you.”
She returned to her magazine.
I checked my phone.
She returned to her magazine.
Mom had sent another message.
“Are you nearly here?”
I typed back.
“Almost. I’ve got quite a story for you.”
***
Mom opened the door before I could knock twice.
“Are you nearly here?”
“Gabby! You’re late!”
“I blame public transportation.”
She laughed and hugged me.
“Happy birthday, Mom,” I said, handing her the gift I’d carried all afternoon.
She smiled.
“Gabby! You’re late!”
Then she looked at my face.
“What happened?”
I followed her inside.
“How much time have you got?”
I followed her inside.
“Considering you’re helping me serve dinner, about ten minutes.”
