we would realize what they already believed was obvious.
My mother, Erica, used to watch us sitting at the kitchen table arguing over homework.
“One day,” she would say, “you two are finally going to figure this out.”
Jeffrey would grin.
“Figure out what?”
Mom would just smile.
“You know exactly what.”
Then Jeffrey would look at me, and I would roll my eyes.
“We’re friends, Mom.”
And technically, that was true.
The truth underneath it was something neither of us was brave enough to examine.
I think we were
