I said: you didn’t cause anything.
She said: Danny came and they wanted to watch the game.
I said: yes.
She said: I can manage down here.
She said it with the specific terrible bravery of a woman who has spent seventy years making herself small enough to fit.
I said: you are not going to manage down here.
I said: you’re coming upstairs.
She said: Gabriel.
She said it with the question again.
I said: I’ll handle Gabriel.
I helped her up.
She was lighter than she had been when she arrived.
Three weeks of chemotherapy and a system that could barely keep food down.
She was lighter and she moved carefully and she was apologizing while I helped her up the stairs, one step at a time, apologizing for the stairs and for the difficulty and for inconveniencing me.
