Beth
I visit mom for the first time since I first called Terrence. She agreed to give me an old SUV of hers that she hadn't used for a few years, still in very good condition. It's paid off and everything. I did not want to continue driving my car because it would be a vicious cycle of remembering the last time I saw Blythe and I do not want to remember her that way. I did not want to purchase a new vehicle either because it seems wise to pinch my pennies in the event my savings become useful. Mom also agreed to talk.
We sit at her kitchen table. She cannot make eye contact; she can hardly even face in my direction. She has started smoking cigarettes again, having quit shortly after dad died. She stares at the wall as she inhales, tapping the cinders into a crystal ashtray. I tremble
