« She’s having a rough week, » my son said, zipping the bag. « I told her I’d be there by four. »
I nodded and reached for my coffee.
« You’re going again today? »
« Tell Diane I said hi. I texted her yesterday, and she barely wrote back, » I told my son.
Aaron paused, just for a second.
« She’s tired, Mom. »
« I know, baby. »
But I’d noticed.
***
My best friend’s replies had been shrinking for weeks. A thumbs-up where there used to be a paragraph. A « k » where there used to be a phone call. I told myself it was the stress, the chemotherapy schedules, and the lack of sleep.
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