My father left, and I started up the stairs. I glanced back to see my mother pick up the bag, but holding it away from herself as if touching it would contaminate her. That was good. She would probably close her eyes, pinch my clothes, and drop them into a basin to wash them. An hour later, I was drying my hair. I was still not very hungry, but for now, I didn’t want to disobey anything my mother had told me to do.

When I went down to eat, she had more detailed questions to ask me. My father was already retired to the living room to read his business news.

“They weren’t living like paupers, were they? There was enough food and such?”

“Yes, and Hazel is still a very good cook. She baked us a golden rod cake.”

“I remember. My uncle was well-to-do, but like most women unschooled in the value of things, my aunt let most of their fortune slip through her fingers after my uncle died. Your father did his best to help her. Frankly, I’m surprised Hazel has stayed with her this long.”

“Oh no, she loves Great-aunt Nettie.”

She smirked. My mother always thought the worst of people first. Right now, I was thinking she might be right to be that way.

“Didn’t Aunt Nettie say anything sensible?”

“She mentioned your mother occasionally and told me about when you once broke your finger.”

“She remembered that?”

“Hazel says she remembers the first fifteen or so years of her life better than yesterday. You never talk that much about your parents,” I said. “Especially your father.”

“I talked enough about them,” she replied, and began to put things away.

I went right up to my room, not even stopping in the living room to say good night to my father. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this tired and was happy to sleep in my clean bed with my oversized soft pillows.

No one bothered me the following morning, even though I had slept until nearly noon. When I finally dressed and went down to the kitchen, my mother was already outside with her two best friends, describing my trip and elaborating with her own details. After all, to them, I was headline news.

“Young women today just don’t have the common sense we had,” I heard her say. “The best thing that could happen to my daughter is someone responsible and decent decides to ask her to be his wife. I swear, she exhausts me, and my husband is just too busy to realize what I endure. Children should be born older so you don’t have so much trouble getting them to become responsible adults.”