Ten minutes.
No resentment.
Because she had chosen.
Two weeks later Jason texted:
Any chance you can take Emma Saturday 1–4? Totally okay if not.
Riley had plans.
She replied:
Can’t Saturday.
Jason:
No problem.
That was it.
No guilt.
No explanation.
Riley almost wanted to frame the exchange.
In February she offered to take all three children overnight.
Offered.
Jason responded:
Are you sure?
Riley laughed when she read it.
Yes.
She was sure.
The kids came.
Emma helped make pizza.
Oliver covered the living room in dinosaurs.
Sky woke at five.
It was exhausting.
Riley loved it.
Because exhaustion chosen freely felt entirely different from exhaustion assigned.
Linda changed more slowly.
Sometimes she slipped.
One afternoon she said:
“Since you’re home tomorrow—”
Then stopped herself.
Riley waited.
Linda sighed.
“Are you available tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
The word came painfully.
But it came.
In March Linda invited Riley to lunch.
Just them.
They sat at a small restaurant near Washington Park.
For twenty minutes they discussed ordinary things.
Then Linda removed something from her purse.
A photograph.
Thanksgiving.
The original group picture.
Riley stared.
Linda had printed another photograph too.
A blurry one taken by Aunt Carol later that evening.
Riley sat at the table laughing while Oliver tried climbing onto her lap. Jason was looking toward Stephanie. Peter’s eyes were closed. Linda herself was reaching for a glass.
Nobody posed.
Everybody was there.
Linda placed it beside the polished photograph.
“I changed my Facebook picture.”
Riley looked at her mother.
Linda appeared embarrassed.
“I know that doesn’t fix anything.”
“No.”
“But I looked through years of pictures.”
Riley waited.
“You’re missing from a lot of them.”
The admission hurt.
“I know.”
Linda swallowed.
“I kept handing you the camera because you always took the best pictures.”
Riley almost smiled.
“That part is true.”
Linda smiled too.
Then became serious.
“I never asked who was recording your life while you recorded ours.”
Riley’s eyes filled.
That was the closest thing to understanding Linda had offered.
“Thank you.”
Linda reached across the table.
She did not grab Riley’s hand.
She placed hers nearby.
An invitation.
Riley covered it.
Their relationship did not become perfect.
No relationship does.
But it became different.
Linda still had opinions.
Many.
She still thought Riley worked too much.
Still asked when she would “meet somebody nice,” until Riley threatened to charge five dollars every time.
Linda paid fifteen dollars before learning.
Jason and Stephanie eventually took a real adults-only vacation.