“Alexander,” her voice came through the phone.
“Mom,” I greeted, trying to sound steady.
“You don’t call anymore,” she said without a second of hesitation. Not even a hello. “I’m left to wonder if I still have a son at all. Do you know the last time we spoke? And should I assume you’ve transferred your bad habit of silence to your sister too? Irene barely calls either. And I know why. You’ve influenced her.”
I closed my eyes, letting her words wash over me. This was a familiar tune. “Mom,” I said quietly, “it’s not like that. I’ve been busy—far busier than I ever imagined I’d be. Some days I barely have time for myself.” That was true, of course...she should know.
“You’ve always been busy,” she shot back. “You were busy as a boy, buried in those books, too serious to climb trees like t
