Chapter 18 - What She Could Give Back
I went to Mom's house the next morning with Renee.
The key fit the lower drawer of the desk in her bedroom.
Inside were my birth certificate, Social Security card, and the letter Northvale had mailed when I first won the scholarship.
The envelope was still sealed.
I stood there holding it while Mom watched from the doorway.
"You never even let me open it," I said.
"I couldn't bear seeing you make plans."
"So you took the plans away."
She nodded.
There was no excuse left, and for once she didn't search for one.
I asked about the girls.
She told us Sheila had arranged meetings with the lender, a staffing agency, and a nonprofit that helped working parents find affordable after-school care.
Good Table might have to sell the new equipment and turn down two contracts.
"I might lose the business," Mom said.
"I'm sorry," I answered.
She looked at me, startled.
"That's all?"
"I'm sorry you're scared. I'm not coming home to fix it."
Her eyes filled.
"I don't know who I am if you stop helping me."
"Then maybe it's time you find out."
It sounded cruel until I remembered how many years I had spent finding out who I could be only in secret.
Mom handed me a shoebox from the closet.
Inside were my father's measuring tape, his old pencils, and photographs from before the kitchen became my second workplace.
She had kept them because she couldn't stand reminders of him.
"I should've given you these years ago," she said.
As we turned to leave, Jo appeared with her backpack.
"Are you really leaving next month?"
"I am."
May you like
Her mouth trembled.
"Then who's going to come when Mom doesn't?"
