PULLING ME UP FROM THE CHAIR, my mum positioned me in the middle of the living room floor as though we were dance partners. She placed my hands on her back, re-creating the scene.
We continued to dance but she didn’t want to talk anymore. When the music finished Mia let go. She turned to the band and whistled, clapping loudly, enthusiastically showing her appreciation, pausing only to brush her hair behind her ear.
People were watching us.
Without a word to Mia, I returned to the tables at the back of the barn, leaving her whistling and applauding. Chris was holding a full glass of schnapps to his lips, holding it there, pressed against his bottom lip, but not drinking. He looked at me as if I’d behaved inappropriately, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow behaved inappropriately. I poured myself a glass, raised a toast, finished it in one, and turned around. The huge barn doors were wide open. Moths were fluttering for the light. And Mia was gone.