A jigsaw piece waits behind the dented teapot, jacketed in a blue, white, cream scrap of cloud. I spot it as I enter the kitchen, just as Mum clambers onto a stool.
“Mum! Let me.”
She rolls her eyes; instructs me to retrieve a tin.
The fruitcake inside exudes cinnamon and zest.
“I baked it last November,” she says. “Should be perfect now. Not everything weakens with age.”
I cut a slab for each of us while the kettle boils.
My sister believes we must do more, but I’ve yet to learn how to help someone who insists they’re fine.
I spoon in Lapsang Souchong leaves; inhale damp woodland evenings.
At the teal-painted table, Mum puzzles on.
I retrieve the cumulus corner and place it beside her cup of tea.
Smile-lines deepen. “Ahh, that’s exactly what I was missing.”
Saturday, 18 June 2022
'After Dad Goes into Care' by Judy Darley
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