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“Like you know him.”

She smiled into her wine. “Maybe one day, I could.”

I took another bite. “He’s fine. Maybe one day, you will because I do like him.”

“How much?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that?”

“Because that’s important.”

I stared at her. “I like him enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“For whatever happens, happens.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

I sighed. “Can we not do therapy today?”

“I’m not your therapist.”

I shook my head. There was no winning in my family.

Mama took a sip. “You seem happier.”

I hated when people said that because I still didn’t completely trust happiness.

“Trying.”

“That’s all you can do.”

I nodded then went back to my food. After a few seconds, I thought about Ravenna. I didn’t know why. Maybe because Mama was sitting directly across from me. She was once a woman and wife who had been cheated on repeatedly. A woman who knew what it felt like to have someone outside the marriage know exactly who she was and still participate. I had spent years trying to understand Ravenna from a distance. Maybe I had been raised by a version of her.

“Mama?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

I stared.

She smiled. “Go ahead.”

I pushed my plate away. “When Daddy cheated…”

Her expression changed.

“…what did you hate most?”

Mama leaned back. “That’s a hell of a question over smothered chicken.”

“I know.”

She looked down at her wine. For a while, I thought she might avoid it, but she didn’t.