the last three years, I had also been paying the gas bill.
Mom didn’t know that.
Or perhaps she had simply forgotten.
The account was still in my name because when she had fallen behind during a difficult winter, I had put the utility under my account and told her not to worry about it.
She never asked whose name was on it afterward.
Apparently, nobody ever thought to ask.
Until that night.
At 9:14 p.m., my phone rang again.
Mom.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Please don’t be difficult.”
