My Mother Locked the Gate on Me

you don’t get asked.”

The coffee was too hot. I held it anyway.

“Mom wants you at the house.”

“I bet she does.”

“She also wants to talk.”

“She had a gate camera.”

Maribel looked down at her cup.

“Yeah.”

We stood there in the hotel doorway while housekeeping carts bumped somewhere down the hall.

Then she reached into her purse and pulled out something else.

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