Those emotions did not cancel each other out.
For the first half hour, my mother talked too much.
Of course she did.
She talked when terrified.
“I still make your favorite cherry pie.”
“Your room isn’t blue anymore, but we can paint it.”
“I saved your old Christmas ornaments.”
“Remember that ridiculous song you girls used to sing?”
Lily’s face changed.
“Mom.”
My mother kept going.
“You both used to dance around the kitchen—”
“Stop.”
Silence.
Mom blinked.
“What?”
“Please stop.”
Lily pressed both hands over her face.
“I can’t do this.”
My mother went pale.
“I’m trying to make you feel at home.”
“That’s the problem.”
Dad stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Lily looked at all three of us.
“Five minutes.”
“I’ve been with you five minutes and we’re already rebuilding the person I used to be.”
Mom stared.
“I thought you’d want familiar things.”
