I picked up the grocery bag and the little paper pharmacy sack, then climbed all three flights.
Mom opened the door before I could knock, just like she always did.
“You shouldn’t be out this late, dear.”
“Ma, I’m fine. Brought your blood pressure pills and that soup you like.”
She cupped my face between both hands. Her palms felt warm, the same warmth I had known all my life.
“You look tired, Jeremy.”
“I’m okay, Ma.”
I was not okay.
The following morning, I squeezed in a coffee shop delivery between shifts. That was when a man lowered himself into the seat across from me without asking permission.
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