Her mother was thinner than memory allowed. She sat in a recliner under a crocheted blanket, even though it was July. Her hands were bird-bones wrapped in skin.
She hadn’t spoken to her mother in eleven years. bitter in the mouth pdf
“You said there was something about my father.” Her mother was thinner than memory allowed
“Why did you wait so long?” Linda asked. bitter in the mouth pdf
It still tasted like burnt toast.
Her mother laughed, a dry rattle. “Your father. Yes. He wasn’t your father. Not biologically. I was already pregnant when we met. He knew. He stayed anyway. Raised you anyway. Loved you anyway.” She paused. “I never told you because I liked that you thought he left us . He left me. He never left you.”