catching you at a bad time, Mom?” he asked.
It was a small question. Six months earlier, he would have told me the time and place he needed me and waited for me to rearrange my day. Now he’d called and left room for me to say no. I looked over the laptop at the bright sky, then back at his face.
“No,” I said. “Because this time you asked first.”
Claire gave a short, embarrassed smile. She did not ask me to revisit that Friday night over a family
