The ravines running straight down the ends of her mouth curdled her smiles into grimaces. She also hated the wrinkles radiating from the sides of her eyes like tributaries ready to ferry her tears; they made her weariness so absolutely apparent. If left alone, these unkind fissures would spread across her entire body like albino kudzu and turn her into a gnarled lump of elbow-skin. This drying out even happened in Florida, where the air was moist; California would turn her into an alligator purse in no time. But, she had to be here: Katie was going to give her a second go at motherhood. She’d be ready this time around. Until then, be good, make nice, get along.

“Where did you go, Mom?”

“I’m right here.”

– 14 –

– 14 –

LET IT SNOW

It was Christmas Eve and Kate staggered to the kitchen in her robe, sleep-webbed. Mary-Sue was there with Larry.

Kate walked straight toward the coffee pot and poured herself a mugful. She almost spat out her first gulp.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Mary-Sue. “Coffee’s too weak, am I right? Well, you’re not supposed to have any caffeine in your condition.”

“Your mother knows this coffee’s as strong as I can take,” Larry said. “Half a can of pop and I’m a Mexican jumping bean.”

“It’s all right. I’m leaving.” Kate tucked the newspaper under her arm and headed to the porch.

“Speaking of which,” Mary-Sue said, “I’ve invited three other people to dinner tonight. I hope you won’t mind.”

Kate froze. Mrs. Park and the girls? “It’s your house, Mother. Invite whomever and however many people you want.”

“I figured the three of us couldn’t possibly finish the turkey by ourselves. And these are holiday orphans. Good people. They have nowhere else to go.”

“Mom, you don’t have to explain. Invite those people.”

“They’re not whoever you think they are.”

“I don’t care.”

“We’re all going to behave ourselves and have a fine time.”

“If you say so.”