“About being everyone’s maid?”
“Yes.”
“It was a little mean.”
“I know.”
She smiled faintly.
“But also a little true.”
We sat quietly.
Then Mom said,
“Your father would’ve hated watching me all summer.”
I smiled.
“He always said I would give away my own shoes if someone complimented them.”
She laughed.
“He used to steal dish towels from me just to make me stop working.”
She looked at the lake.
“Once I found one in his tackle box three years after he died.”
I took her hand.
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
The next morning, I went downstairs at seven.
Mom was sitting at the table.
Pink robe.
Coffee.
Mystery novel.
She had made it to page eighty-four.
The kitchen was quiet.
And in the sink sat one coffee cup.
Rinsed.
Upside down.
Susan’s.
She had made her own coffee.
Carried her cup in from the deck.
Rinsed it herself.
Mom and I noticed.
Neither of us mentioned it.
Mom just smiled and went back to reading.
Richard handled the grocery run that morning.
When he returned, he had regular mayonnaise.
“Susan said it’s fine.”
Then he held up a second jar.
Avocado-oil mayonnaise.
“I bought one anyway.”
Before leaving Sunday afternoon, Susan found Mom outside.
I stayed close enough to hear.
“Maggie.”
Mom looked up.
“I’m sorry about the flowers.”
Mom said nothing.
“I shouldn’t have told you to move them. It’s your house.”
Susan paused.
“It was rude.”
Mom looked at her.
“Yes. It was.”
And Susan accepted that.
No excuses.
No explanations.
No,
I didn’t mean it.
No,
You misunderstood.
Just acceptance.
Then she looked toward the geraniums.
“They really are beautiful.”
Mom smiled.
“I know.”
A few minutes later, Susan walked through the kitchen on her way to the car.
The dry-erase board had already been wiped clean.
She stopped.
Picked up the marker.
And wrote:
Susan — Saturday breakfast.
Then she left.
On the way to the car, she passed the big lounger.
She stopped.
Looked at it.
Then looked at the six flower boxes hidden near the trash cans.
She walked over.
Picked up one box with both hands.
Carried it across the deck.
Placed it back on the railing.
Exactly where Mom had originally put it.
Then she returned for another.
And another.
