The meeting she didn’t want
A few weeks later, I brought Anna and Aaron to meet her anyway.
We met at a coffee shop near my apartment. Anna was ten minutes late — her sitter canceled last minute, and she had to bring Aaron.
I could feel my mother’s irritation grow with every tick of the clock.
When Anna walked in, she looked flustered. Loose bun. Jeans. Pale blouse. One side of her collar curled up like she’d dressed in a rush.
Aaron clung to her hand, eyes scanning the pastry case like it was the safest thing in the room.
“This is Anna,” I said. “And this is Aaron.”
My mother stood, offered her hand, and smiled without warmth.
“You must be exhausted,” my mother said.
“I am,” Anna replied with a soft laugh. “It’s been one of those days.”
We sat down. My mother asked Aaron exactly one question.
