Mom had been bedridden since I was twenty-eight.
I looked up. « Her phone? »
Brenda shrugged, looking puzzled herself.
« She’s been doing that more, sweetheart. Little stretches where she wants the door closed. I don’t pry. »
« Mom barely knows how to text. »
« She’s learning, apparently. »
I laughed. Mom had been bedridden since I was twenty-eight. The only world she had was the one I built around her.
I bent and kissed her forehead.
I carried her tea down the hall and pushed open the door.
« Morning, Mama. »
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