Chapter 6
“You’ll ruin your eyes.” Mom touched my shoulder as she walked past the kitchen table. “Tea?”
I was doing math homework, sitting under the dim light of our dusty ceiling lamp. Outside, it was snowing and I had the radio tuned to my favorite oldies station. It was late and I should have been in bed, but I didn’t want to be down there in the basement with my loneliness and bitter disappointment.
Mom sat across from me at the table. She looked rested, her auburn hair combed for the night and spilling over her pink flannel robe. Her face was still young and fresh, even with all the misery she seemed to cling to. We had the same eyes—green and gentle. “Here.” She pushed the tea cup my way, then the sugar shaker.
I poured sugar into the cup. And a little more.
“Not so much, Red.”
