Page 13 - My FlipBook
P. 13
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. You’re so tired, you have to
sleep.”
She digs around for a nightgown and turns around to
change. I’m surprised when she climbs into the bed here in the
front room and scoots against the wall to make space for me
before collapsing into a heap on her side. Since the bedroom
door is closed, I suppose she probably doesn’t want to disturb
Baba. I root in my bag for my pajamas and put them on before
shutting off the lamp and climbing into the bed beside Mama.
I position myself so we’re back to back, not touching.
In all my nineteen years, except for when I was first born
and the two weeks at Spring Festival every year, we have never
lived together, and it’s strange now to be sharing a bed. I feel
her flip around behind me, her breath on the back of my neck.
She strokes my hair once before her breathing falls into the
steady rhythm of sleep. I lie awake for a long time in the dark.
10
