I’m gathering myself to confront the girls remaining in the hallway for a blistering reprisal of their time with us when my mother begins to shudder. I stumble to her feet, pushing my face into her lap, kneading her stomach and breast like a cat. Her shudder continues, deepening, spreading to her extremities. She clutches the arms of her chair.

These fucking women, my mother says.

I have made the worst kind of mistake.