“I walked Sam up to his door and gave him a huge hug. He looked me over in the porch light and leaned over—just a little. He whispered, “You know, I’m glad you wore this costume tonight. Now I know, when you’re fifty three, you’re still gonna be lookin’ good.” So I hit him. Which really wasn’t what I was wanting to do.”

“You coming?” he asked her, leaning in through the door. And then he finally really looked at me. He came to a complete halt—not just his body, but his energy. His eyebrows went right up. “Oh,” he said. I sort of flicked my hem at him, assuming what I fondly considered an enigmatic look. “This okay?” I asked. “Oh,” he said again, stepping inside the house. The screen door hit him when it closed. “Yeah. Yeah, that works.” It kind of looked like he was beginning to sweat.”

“I forgot all about him and lost myself in the story.That's what I love about films and good books- you can climb right into them and be there. I just hate it when I'm doing that, and then somebody butts in and messes with my concentration.”

“I miss you. You don’t know how much I miss you. You don’t know how my heart sinks inside me when I think how far away you are. But then, maybe you know that feeling. I hope you do. No, I wouldn’t wish that on you. But then, yes I would . . .. Forgive me for missing you that much.”

“And you know what? You can’t make me responsible for you and the choices you make.” I turned around and started walking toward the house.”

“Trust is weird,” my mother said. “People give it too easily, most of the time. Because somebody is attractive, they expect him to be good or honest. Or like pushy salesmen—somebody who carefully makes you feel like you’re emotionally obligated to trust them. Like you’re the rude one if you don’t. Trust is really something that needs to be earned. Hard earned. If somebody every says, ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Just say, “No, as a matter of fact.”

“She wants me to cut through all the sweetness and light in my head,” I said, “so I can see the truth.” “Which is?” Tommy asked, not turning around. “That nothing is what it seems to be.”