” Shari remarked as she gestured to Lucy’s reflection in the mirror. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. She broke this promise when she told me that my mother was this Mary, and not Suzanne Valade at all. She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him.
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