When my son sl:apped me for interrupting his video game, I just lowered my head and walked to the kitchen. I spent three hours baking his favorite triple-chocolate cake

Most sons leave and forget their moms.”

“Does he?”

She frowned. “Does he what?”

“Stay here for me?”

Her expression tightened immediately. “Don’t twist things around. He’s stressed. Gaming can become a real career now. You wouldn’t understand.”

No.

I probably wouldn’t understand a “career” financed by my pension withdrawals and grocery budget.

Marissa drifted continue reading …