Some nights, I’d come home, kick off my sneakers, and wince at the fresh blisters on my feet. Audrey would greet me in the hallway, waving her homework in the air.
“You hungry, Mom? There’s leftover soup and grilled cheese.”
So I did what women like me always do.
She’d already set the table, two bowls, two spoons, and flowers from the yard. “I saved you the bigger slice.”
I’d laugh, even when my entire body ached. “You always take care of me.”
She grinned. “So do you, Mom. You work so hard for us.”
***
