The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

my number.

My mother’s hand tightened on my arm. “Erica doesn’t exactly have time for dating right now.”

Derek kept his eyes on me. “I also know how to drink coffee. One hour. You pick the place.”

No one ever argued with my mother.

I heard myself say, “Sure. Why not?”

Two weeks later, when Derek came over for dinner—flowers in hand, complimenting her cooking—my continue reading …