Chapter 16: Three Bowls

"Say what you came to say," I told my mother.

She stood against my car with the phone in both hands.

"I can't undo it," she said.

"No."

"I'd like to."

"Then I have terms."

She blinked at me.

I had never said that word to her in my life.

"One," I said. "Tonight at the rehearsal dinner, you don't clap."

"Imogen."

"When Dad stands up and says whatever he typed, you don't smile, you don't cry, and you don't look at me like I'm the one who has to be brave."

"I don't know if I can."

"Two. You tell Roz's fiancé's mother that you signed my name."

"I can't do that."

"Then you don't have to say anything. Just don't stop me."

Her tissue shredded in her fingers.

"Your father will..."

"Mom, he just got walked out of a children's hospital by a man in a polo shirt."

"He'll be worse."

"Then you'll finally see what he is."

She started to cry, quietly and all at once.

I stood there and watched.

Years ago I'd have put my arm around her and said it was okay.

I got into my car instead.

"Mom," I said through the window. "What's your medicine called?"

She looked at me with wet eyes.

"Lisinopril," she said. "It's for blood pressure."

"Thank you."

"Forty dollars."