then mom saw tristan. her whole expression changed. "tristan!"
"hi, momy!" he jumped off his stool and hugged her and i watched her face over his shoulder, lit and happy.
color in a gray world.
the lump bolted to my throat and i had to look at the collection of green blown glass on the windowsill over the sink to keep from sobbing.
i didn't care that she remembered him. i was glad she did. i cared that she didn't remember me.
what about me made me less permanent? why did i fade to gray when everyone else was bright?
dad came up behind me and gave my shoulders a squeeze like he knew what i was feeling. maybe he did.
