She pulls me into a hug, and I let myself sink into it. She’s thinner than I remember, basically nothing but skin and bones beneath the sparse cotton of her shirt. She’s still my mama, though. She’s been worn down and worn through, but she’s still my mama.
We sit like that for a long time, holding each other while the afternoon darkens to twilight outside the window. After a while, I raise my head. “I was thinking about something the other day. Do you remember that time we got caught in the rain? Outside the grocery store?”
She pulls back to look at me, her brow furrowing. “When?”
“I was maybe six or seven. We were about to go inside, and then the sky just opened up.”
A slow smile spreads across her tear-stained face. “Oh my God. I do remember that.”
“You made me dance with you,” I co
