If Only I Had Told Her

by Laura Nowlin

I’ve seen her finish a novel, pause staring off into space for a minute like she’s receiving instructions, and then open another book. It’s as if her job is to read and she’s behind on her quota.

“Or how a brain can know things logically but still send illogical signals and emotions? Tell you to do stupid things?”

I am…okay. I can move. Get to Sylvie. Tell her to lie still. Make the call. Get Sylvie to the hospital. Go home to Autumn. With a plan in place, I climb out of the car and run across the rain-soaked pavement to her. I fall to my knees in front of Sylvie, putting my hand to the ground. It’s wet—

Ill never recover.

When she hugs me goodbye, it doesn’t feel like goodbye. It feels like hugging Finn. I know now that she’s going to be part of my life for a long time.

“Being a mother is all about losing control and then surviving it.”