By summer, Mom and Graham were seeing each other openly. He came to our apartment for dinner. She went to his house for dinner. Sometimes Clara and I went too. We learned how to share a table without pretending the old parts of our lives had disappeared.
Graham brought groceries to our place once and set them on the counter.
"You don't have to do that," Mom said.
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
"I was at the market. I saw the peaches you like."
Mom looked at the paper bag, then at him. "You remember what I like."
"I try to."
I watched them stand in the kitchen together. Graham looked at Mom like he was waiting for her to tell him whether to stay. Mom looked back like she was deciding whether she wanted him to.
It made me uncomfortable. It also made me hopeful.
A month later, Graham
