Erick
“If she ever needs anything from me, she’ll have it,” she said. “And I'll be a mother to her whenever she needs one.”
Her voice was soft, but it carried weight.
I had imagined rage, recrimination, demanding my head, Instead she offered to always be there.
“But you hurt my girl again and you'll have me to answer to.” She added quickly.
There was something merciful in that. I had come expecting damning verdicts. Instead I got a barometer of common sense.
She reached across the counter and pinched my cheek, as acquainted and maternal a gesture as one gets in kitchens.
“Don’t blow it, Erick,” she said, a spoon clattering against ceramic for emphasis.
I laughed, grateful, and promised her I wouldn’t.
Then I decided to ask about Max, after all he was the real reason I had chos
