“Mason, do you ever wonder about what I do when you’re in school?” she suddenly asked him as he bent over his waffle. He looked at her, confused. “Is this a trick?” “No. No trick.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Stuff, I guess. Different things.” He looked decidedly uninterested in the question, and she knew, from his answer, that she was a mystery to her child and perhaps to her husband—an unmysterious mystery—as perhaps many women were, everywhere.
