“Oh. It isn’t.”
“It seems like it is.”
“That’s because I’ve had years to learn how to smile while everybody loses their minds.”
I laughed into the mug.
Then the laugh faded.
“I don’t know how to do any of it.”
She looked back at me.
“Do what?”
I touched my stomach without thinking.
“This.”
Her face changed then. Softer. More careful.
“You don’t need to know everything today.”
“I know that logically.”
“Logic rarely helps much.”
“I don’t know what good mothers do,” I said quietly. “I know what bad ones do. I know what selfish people do. I know what people who need something from you do. But I don’t know what it looks like when it’s healthy.”
Claire was quiet for a moment.
Then she reached across the table and covered my hand with hers.
“It’s messy,” she said. “And loud. And
