My Mom Called Asking When I Was Coming Back for the Baby Until I Realized Mine Was Already With Me

the other curled into my shirt as if even in sleep she needed proof I was still there. Her breathing was soft and steady and familiar and real.

I answered.

“Mom?”

At first, only breathing. Not the absent breathing of someone who had dialed by mistake. This was careful, measured, tight, like a person standing very still in the dark and trying not to draw continue reading …