Page 208 of ClickBack

I offer to help. She gives me dish towels and an open kitchen box.

“Just those,” she says.

“I heard you.”

I get through that box and two smaller ones before I notice the word Kitchen on a carton she has already sealed. It tells the movers very little. I add Fragile beneath it, then lift the tape at one corner to check the mugs.

“Ma.”

I look up.

“It was closed.”

“I wanted to make sure the handles were protected.”

“I packed them.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

She looks at the tape in my hand.

I put it down.

Rae sits on a folded blanket on the floor. “You do realize the mugs are allowed to arrive without a personal inspection.”

“I’d prefer that they arrive with handles.”

“So would I. That’s why I wrapped them.”

I look into the box. She has.

“All right.”

“And if one breaks, I’ll replace it.”

I start to point out that two belonged to her grandmother. She sees me prepare the sentence.

“I know which ones were Nanny’s, Mama.”

I fold the flaps back down. She takes the tape gun and reseals the box herself.

“Jeremy has the truck details?” I ask.

She stops winding the tape.

“You asked me yesterday.”

“I asked whether he’d confirmed.”

“And I said yes.”

I sit on the sofa, in the only space that isn’t holding something. “You’re leaving. I’m trying to help.”

“I know.” She sets the tape aside. “Sometimes you could believe I already did something before you got here.”

“I believe you do things.”

“Then why does everything need checking?”