"i saw this dark lady, but she was too dark to be my wife."
"mom, we ought to end this call on that comment. there's not much more i can add to that."
we hung up. i shook my head. imagining the scenario. most likely it was nothing like my mother described it still it had an air of truth. and there's nothing i wouldn't believe of their relationship.
what would it look like? my mother arriving at the funeral, dressed in ........ and peau de soi pumps, low, no longer the slender narrow she once was. wordlessly, inserting herself between the back of a pew and in front of my stepfather and an unknown woman to his right. He looked up and through her. While she sat down to his left, saying nothing; waiting for his acknowledgment.