The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

She was holding her stuffed elephant by one ear. Her eyes, too big in her small face, were fixed on me.

I realized my cheeks were wet.

I wiped them quickly. “Hey, baby.”

“Why are you crying?” she asked.

I swallowed. “Just something sad on TV,” I lied.

She padded over in her socks and climbed onto the couch, tucking herself under my arm. I shut the phone continue reading …