her a single one.
“Your mother never came to the house,” I said. “Never. Not once. I promise you.”
Hannah looked at me for a long time. I could see her trying to decide who to believe.
“She sent me all those cards,” she said quietly. “For eleven years. You don’t send somebody eleven years of birthday cards and then not try to see them.”
I didn’t say anything.
I just knelt there in the dirt, holding a handful of weeds, while the girl I raised looked at me like she didn’t know who I was.
After she left, Mark came home and found me sitting at the kitchen table, still in my gardeningShop Lawn & Garden
gloves.
When I told him, he got so angry I’d never seen anything like it. He grabbed his car keys.
“I’m going over there right now,” he said. “I’m going to tell her everything. About the cards. About Denise. About all of it.”
