I watched as the realization of what she held in her hand registered. Her face slowly drained of blood, her fingers holding the paper turned white wit... the intensity of her grip and her eyes closed in pain. I saw the tears begin and squeeze out between her closed lashes. She said nothing for the longest time. I turned and walked away, my own eyes smarting with the pain of reality. Now it was done. Now it was over. I was sitting in the kitchen, a glass of water sitting on the table in front of. ‘Thanks.’ I thought I heard a slight tremor in her voice, but I told myself it was just wishful thinking. The conversation kept going fairly well as we drove out to the country club. She knew enough about computers to at least ask a couple intelligent questions about my job, and knew even more about Porsches. At the party, she chatted easily with the older women about their gardens, knew how the Blazers were doing, and complimented Mom on having such polite sons. She fended off one of the older. More

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