Then
“Bella, honey, come have a seat. I'll get to that later.” I heard my mom calling for me from the back yard. She'd made up a beautiful afternoon tea for us on the patio overlooking the lake. She even used her floral tray and broke out her best china tea set. She had little petit fours from the bakery down the beach; she never could bake worth a damn.
“I'm coming, I'm coming!” I headed out the open patio doors. Her backyard was small, mostly because the sand crept in, but she had a garden planted along the house. I watched the lazy bobbing of the flower heads, identifying snapdragons and nasturtium among others in the haphazard order my mother had perfected. I made my way to the little round table with the umbrella that she had set to one side of the yard and kissed her cheek before sitting next to her.
“You're always so busy these days,” she complained with an indulgent smile. “It makes me happy, but I miss you.”
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