Missed.
Once.
Then again.
I saw her face change.
For half a second, I think she remembered the woman behind us.
The sigh.
The humiliation.
The suggestion that maybe she was too old to be there.
“I’m sorry,” Mom whispered automatically.
Helen reached toward the card reader.
But she didn’t take the card from her.
She steadied the machine.
Mom tried again.
This time, the card slid smoothly into place.
Helen looked at her.
“Take your time.”
Mom smiled weakly.
“I’ve made you wait long enough.”
Helen’s eyes filled again.
“You don’t have to apologize for making me wait.”
She reached across the counter and covered Mom’s trembling hand with hers.
Mom laughed. Then cried. Then somehow did both at once.
When we finally left the store, Helen came with us.
Outside, she stopped under the awning and turned the photograph over one more time.
“The baby Margaret needed more than me.”
