Chapter 80

When I pulled away, I could see she was crying. 31

My mother asked me to move in with her: the second part to our previous conversation. She asked me over dessert: coffee and leftover peanut butter cookies. Philip was in the shower, and I could hear the inspiring melody from a tune he was humming.

I sat beside my mother at the butcher-block island, the room stirring with unrestrained electricity. “Mom.”

“Hear me out.”

“I can’t move right now—” I started to say.

“Have you spoken to Philip about it?”

“You just asked me. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

“I’m sure Philip will be fine with the idea.”

“Picking up and moving our life here would require major changes in our life.”

“For whom?”

“Everyone. Me. Philip. You.”

“I need you.”

“I’ll visit every month.” I gestured with a wide sweep of my hand. “We’re staying another week.”

“It’s not long enough.”

I exhaled.

“Think about it,” she said. “Please. I need you and Philip. I can’t go on living alone.”