My mother called at 2:07 a.m. and said, “You can c…

Tomorrow? You could’ve called at a normal hour.”

“I’ve been busy.”

That meant she’d been busy with Daniel. It always meant Daniel.

I rubbed my eyes and looked at the red numbers on the microwave across my studio kitchen. 2:08. I had a hearing prep meeting at eight.

“I can drive down after work, I guess. What time?”

“Six-thirty. Don’t be late.”

“Okay.”

I waited, because with my mother there was always a second sentence.

“Anything else?”

There was a pause. I could hear the faint clink of dishes on her end, like she was already in the kitchen planning centerpieces in the middle of the night. Then she said, “You can come, but keep your mouth shut.”