Then she grew quiet.
“I wish I remembered more.”
Margaret looked at her.
“You remember enough.”
Claire nodded.
After a moment she said, “I’m sorry for what I said that morning.”
Margaret’s expression softened.
“You already apologized.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to keep paying for one sentence forever.”
Claire looked down.
“It wasn’t just one sentence.”
No.
It had been months of resentment.
Small insults.
Impatience.
A struggle over space neither woman fully understood.
Margaret leaned against the counter.
“You were wrong.”
Claire nodded.
“So was Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“And sometimes I made this house difficult to share.”
Claire looked up.
Margaret continued.
“But if we spend every good day proving how sorry we are for the bad ones, we will waste what time we have.”
Claire swallowed.
“How much time do we have?”
Margaret smiled.
“At least until you learn to make decent eggs.”
Claire laughed through tears.
“Your eggs are overcooked.”
“Get out of my kitchen.”
Claire froze.
Margaret froze too.
For half a second the old morning returned.
Then Margaret smiled.
Claire stared at her.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
