“Mother,” I whispered, using a condescending tone, perhaps judging her as I always had, glad that we were from two different worlds, understanding situations in various ways and actions. Amen to that. Being like her would have caused me to commit suicide, or move away, just as my three sisters and father had, leaving her alone, without love.
“Don’t go there,” she told me. “Show me respect at all times, young man.”
“Just be nice. Please.”
“Of course. How else is a woman to be?”
I pictured her grinning from ear to ear, maybe mocking me.
Then she said, “Go pack some boxes. I’ll check in on you sometime soon.”
“Yes, Mother,” I said, ending the call and hoping not hear from her anytime soon.
* * * *