Page 4 of Glad You Exist

She tugs on an earlobe, a far-off look on her face, the one she has reserved for whenever she thinks about my brother. “I mean, I guess I could always just take you.”

“Whoaaaa. Don’t sound so excited,” I tease; I know she didn’t say it to minimize me. Their relationship has become strained over the years since she and Dad started having problems, largely due to the fact that Danny started distancing himself from our parents during high school when their bickering became near constant.

Who could really blame him?

She laughs, but it sounds strained, and she pats my hand to keep pushing the cart as we walk around the toiletry aisles to grab what we need.

“Mom, seriously though. I don’t know why you have it in your head that Danny hates you or something. He loves you; he’ll go with you if you want him to,” I say.

She stays quiet for the next few aisles. Just as we enter the bread aisle, our last stop, she nudges me with her shoulder again, takes hold of the cart, and pushes it off to the side while she gazes down at me with a thoughtful look on her face. “What about you?”

“What about me?” I grab a bag of bagels, sighing.

This will have to do for now. At least until I can make a trip downtown to the bakery at the Filipino store for some pandesal and pastries.

“If I asked you to do something for me, would you do it?”

I shoot her an incredulous look. “Just lay it on me, mom.”

“Put that back, Liz. I’ll grab some fromValerio’swhen I head downtown tomorrow.”

I raise an eyebrow as I trade the bagels for some powdered donuts. The kind Dan likes. “Mom?”

“Come to brunch with me this weekend.”

I tilt my head at her. “AND?” There has to be more to it than that. There always is.

She makes a point of dragging out her answer as she pushes the cart out of the aisle, forcing me to hurry after her as she leads the way to the checkout aisles.

Then she looks sideways at me, a mischievous look on her face, as we fall in line.

“Say yes first.”

Unconvinced, I just shake my head as I start unloading the cart.

“You’re being vague on purpose. What is it?”

She leaves the question hanging in the air while she pays, and I bag our groceries. After thanking the cashier, we make our way out to her car, and I have to swallow a groan at her audacity to look innocently at me as we put our stuff away and get in the car.

She deliberately takes her sweet time to answer me as she presses the button to start the car then shifts in her seat, so she is facing me.

“Have brunch with your Aunt Rose and me this Sunday.”

I eye her warily, “What’s the catch?”

“At her house.”

I have an inkling there is more to it than that, but I want her to completely spell it out for me. I stay silent until she senses my trepidation and continues.

“She invited the Andersons and Thompsons.Everyoneis expected to come.”

“For brunch?” I look away feeling a churning in my stomach that is a mixture of dread, fear, and guilt about what I was being asked to do.

“It’s her and your Uncle Dave’s twenty fifth wedding anniversary. She wants to celebrate with family.”

My head snaps back at her, “We’re not—”

She cuts me off, raising a hand and leveling me with a unyielding look on her face, her frustration evident with the lines etched on her forehead.

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