When I Was Four, My Mother Left Me Alone in a Church—Twenty Years Later She Returned Crying, “We Need You”

A limited one with my mother.

Almost none with my father.

I chose Florence every day, though by then choosing her felt like saying I chose gravity.

She was simply home.

When Florence turned eighty-five, Hannah played piano at her birthday.

Badly.

Very badly.

Florence sat beside her pretending to conduct.