The Cookie Tin That Saved Me After I Called My Mother Disgraceful

I knocked.

She opened the door within seconds. She looked older, her hair fully gray now, wearing that same faded wool sweater.

She looked at me. I was twenty pounds thinner, unshaven, with dark circles under my eyes. I braced myself for the lecture. I expected the “I told you so.” I deserved it.

She didn’t say a word. She just opened the screen door and pulled me into a hug that smelled like lavender and old paper.

“Come in, Jimmy. It’s cold out there.”