breath. That little detail is never part of the public story. I hadn’t even learned it until I was writing my personal essay for college applications and asked about the fate of the Moses basket. I stood up and caught Mom’s eye through the joyous crowd. Somehow she managed to convey delight at the sight of me and an enormous desire to come talk to me, while gesturing for me to sit tight a moment more to give her time to get an update from her new old friend. I spoke fluent Mom; I could read the way she moved her hands and tilted her head. I’d spent my childhood learning to do whatever it took to make the lines of her face arrange themselves into her prettiest smile. She was smiling that smile when Glen said, “You two look alike. A triumph of nurture over nature.” Meanwhile, the receiving line was gathering around us and sweeping us up like an undertow. I leaned close to him and whispered, “Jeff was the one who left my mom so he could marry Philip’s mom.” “Marry that red-headed skank?” “I hate that word. But I love you for saying it.” “What’s her deal? What does she do?” “Something with fundraising.” “Can you stand to shake her hand?” “Do I have a choice?” “Trust me.” I trusted him. Danielle was first in line and our hug was great. I’d forgotten how genuine she was, this do-good doctor whom
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I’d known when her eyeball wandered. Danielle held me tight and whispered, “We’re all here because of you. Thank you so much.” I said, “Thank you for saying that.” My gratitude surprised me. Philip’s hug was awkward but fine. Jeff wasn’t in the line. Philip’s mother stood beside Philip’s father, who seemed to remember me, and I gave him a handshake, but I gave his former wife nothing, nada, zilch. Our eyes came close to meeting, but in the nick of time, Glen leaned into her and asked, slowly, urgently, “I know I’ve seen you—CNN? PBS?” “I wish.” She almost giggled, and she wasn’t a giggler. “I know I’ve see you. You look so familiar. It’s driving me crazy.” “Well, public access TV—a few times.” “Really?” “I made a documentary on a project Philip organized. He got together a gleaning team from a homeless shelter.” “A gleaning team?” “Gleaning is the process of gathering fruit that’s left on the ground after a grove has been harvested—picked up so that it isn’t abandoned to rot.” Like I was. Glen said, “How fantastic on so many levels.” He held her hand an extra long time. She glowed like a bride. I snuck around her and waited by the food table for the best cafeteria friend ever. Meanwhile, Jeff was entering my mother’s orbit and she seemed to be moving toward him, but I wasn’t sure that I could read her right, which bothered me. Glen loaded a
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