Thursday, 3:29 p.m.I steeled myself as the door opened. I looked to the left and saw her about ten feet away, Kerry to her right, far enough from my mother so that a gap appeared between them.
I did not want to, but I had to. “Why are you here?”
She recoiled at that and to me, having warmed, or perhaps cooled, to the task, I wondered why she was surprised. My anger was getting the best of me and I did not want to stop it. I would not cry and I would not blink.
Kerry saw this once, in my apartment over a year before. This time, she would not allow me to shut myself down as I had with her. She moved between my mother and me.
Looking into my hard eyes: “Suzanne, I know it’s hard. Your mother can just walk across to the other platform and take the next train back to the city and out of you
