She stared at me like I had just locked her out of heaven.
“I’m their grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m not welcome?”
“Not today.”
Her chin trembled.
It hurt.
Of course it hurt.
People think boundaries feel empowering.
Sometimes they do.
Mostly, at first, they feel like standing barefoot on broken glass while someone you love asks why you are being dramatic.
My mother looked past me into the warm house.
I could hear Wren laughing at something Mr. Gideon said.
I could smell roast chicken.
For one second, I wanted to step aside.
Not because she deserved it.
Because I was tired.
Because letting her in would have been easier than holding the line.
Then Mr. Gideon appeared behind me.
He did not say anything.
He just stood there in his cardigan, holding a wooden spoon like a grumpy kitchen wizard.
My mother saw him.
