Crystal put her hand over her mouth. She started crying. Real crying this time. Not the pretty kind.
“I know,” she sobbed. “I know. I heard her tonight. I heard every word.”
I didn’t put my arm around her. I’m not that good a person. But I didn’t leave, either.
When she finally stopped crying, she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked. “The cards. Why would you do that? For somebody else’s kid?”
I thought about it for a long time.
“Because she wasn’t somebody else’s kid,” I said. “Not after the first Saturday. She was mine. And I
couldn’t stand to watch my kid stand at a mailbox.”
Crystal looked at me.
“Real mothers sit up front,” she said quietly. “That’s what I said to you this morning.”Browse Reference
“I remember.”
