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He cleared his throat and asked quietly if she was ok. She nodded but dabbed at the tears falling down her cheeks with a black silk handkerchief. He took a step closer but she remained still and whispered ‘Joseph.’ How did she know his name? Was this one of the many women he’d spent the last evening dancing with? Everything was such a blur but he was certain that he would never forget a woman as beautiful as she, regardless of how drunk he was. His eyes swept across her gorgeous face and petite frame, he scoured his memory for a name to match her image but came up empty. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked quietly. She nodded with a slight Mona Lisa smile. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name. I’ve been drunk for 24 hours and I’m afraid my memory is a bit patchy.’ He combed his hand through his hair, he felt like an ass. ‘So, um, are you ok? Can I do something to help you?’ She stepped toward him and like a magnet he walked towards her. She stopped a few feet away and extended her left hand,. . I don't want you to look back in two or three years and regret something when a word or two from me now can prevent it."Andy couldn't remember if he'd ever seen his mother cry in front of him. He'd heard her crying before and he'd seen red eyes and a raw nose some mornings when she came out for breakfast but he didn't think she had shed tears in front of him. He sat down on the couch and hugged her to him as she cried harder."I know it's been a weird week," he said soothingly. "We're all a little out of whack right now."He felt Camille nod against his shoulder and he kissed her on top of the head."I know you mean well," Andy said after a sigh. "But you always warned me that I need to be careful about how I say things ... that people can hear a single word or a tone of voice and completely miss the rest of the message. Maybe that's what happened this evening. I felt like you were accusing me of something. Mom, we didn't do anything bad this evening. We didn't do anything that either.
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