She never said so, but I could tell by how long she kept me on the phone, asking about people she barely knew just to hear another voice.
Peter lived 20 minutes away, yet rarely visited without needing something.
He had a nice car, expensive clothes, and a business that was always, according to him, one payment away from doing wonderfully.
Mom defended him whenever I worried about the money she lent him.
“He’s finding his feet,” she’d say.