Jeremy’s POV
Lunch tastes like cardboard as my mother’s voice fills the space anyway, smooth and bright, as if nothing has shifted in the world. She discusses Judith’s preferences, Judith’s schedule, Judith’s opinion on a renovation she saw online, all in the present tense, all as if the woman is merely late and not gone.
She tells me that Judith is coming over later to visit her, and she wonders out loud if she will help her get back some of her damaged items.
Claire sits beside me, posture composed, hands folded, her smile polite, and I catch her eye and hold it longer than necessary, letting the apology sit there without words. I hope she feels it. I hope she knows that I hate this and that I appreciate her patience in all this.
My mother never once addresses her directly.
I answer
