Don’t Count It Tonight
And she gave me the envelope and she said” — my mother stopped, and then went on — “she said, I’m not asking him for anything.
I just need him to know.”
I said, “What was in the envelope?”
“A letter.
And a picture from the sonogram.”
“Where is it?”
And my mother said, “Upstairs.”
Eight years.
In her house.
Upstairs.