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Mom pursed her lips together.

“I’m just saying. You know I have a business mind, sweetheart. I know what I’m talking about.”

Right. Mom’sbusiness mindwas more like she minded my business. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I changed the topic, and we made small talk. It was easier to talk to my mom about things that didn’t involve her situation, or mine, or anything emotional—I told her about Sadie’s art, discussed current events, and mentioned the weather.

Finally, after finishing our coffee, I got up and said my goodbyes.

She walked to the door with me.

“I’ll have those groceries delivered,” I said. “Tell me if you need something specific I should add to the list.”

Mom nodded. “Thank you, honey. I know how much you do for me. I don’t always say it, but it means a lot.”

“Of course, Mom,” I said. “I’m always here.”

“Tell your brother I want to talk to him.”

“I will,” I said. He wouldn’t call her even if I did tell him. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You know I always do.”

I nodded and climbed into my car, hoping that she would be okay. She still had a long road ahead of her. Somewhere along the line, something had to give. I hoped to God that it would be sooner, rather than later, and we could all find our happiness again. When I drove away, my phone rang and Ryan’s name flashed on the display console.

“Hey, little brother,” I said, answering.

“Two minutes, Em,” he said. “You’re only two minutes older than I am.”

I laughed. He hated it when I reminded him that I was older.

“How was it?”

He knew I’d gone to see our mom. I groaned.

“It was one of those days. She’s not in a good space.”

“She’s not in a good space often,” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s tough. I get it.”

“Sure,” Ryan said. He knew he disagreed. I wasn’t going to argue.

“She wants to talk to you.”

“That’s not happening.”

“She bought curtains with her grocery money. I’m delivering groceries tomorrow. Maybe, go see her then? Have breakfast with her.”

Ryan groaned, and I could see him rolling his eyes. “You’re enabling her.”

“I’m trying to help her.”

“She doesn’t deserve it.”

“She’s still ourmom, Ryan,” I said. “What am I supposed to do? You’re not doing anything, and Dad won’t. I’m the only one left. I can’t just let her wither away after everything she’s done for us over the years. Don’t you care about her at all? Because I do.”

Ryan didn’t answer me. He didn’t agree with helping Mom after what she’d done, so I carried her financial burden alone. Ryan and I had gotten stuck about it, at first. Until we’d decided not to fight. We couldn’t let what Mom had done pull us apart too.

Some days, though, I wished he would snap out of it. We were twins, but we couldn’t be more different when it came to something like this. Ryan was black-and-white, drawing a line in the sand when someone broke rules. He could be unforgiving in the worst way. But to me, everything was shades of gray, and it was so hard to point the finger when I couldn’t say I was a saint. We all made mistakes and forgiving seemed to be better all around.


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