that small talk. Nobody you’d know.”
People with status.
I stood there in the kitchen where I’d packed his school lunches for twelve years, holding a coffee cup that said WORLD’S OKAYEST MOM, which he’d given me as a joke when he was nineteen.
Forty-six guests.
I wasn’t one of them.
“Mom? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay, so listen, our flight to Maui is boarding in a few minutes. But I wanted to tell you, when we land back on the 26th, we’re going straight to the point.”
The point.
