Mason saw it too.
He did not say anything.
Neither did I.
A few silver strands still clung to the bristles.
***
Maribel came out of the kitchen wearing a blue scarf tied carefully around her head. She had always been tiny, but illness had made her seem folded smaller inside her cardigan.
“You two shouldn’t be here,” she said. “Weddings have enough errands.”
Mason kissed her cheek. “You are an errand, my sweet, sweet Nana.”
She swatted his arm, almost smiling.
Almost.
Illness had made her seem folded smaller inside her cardigan.
“I don’t want fuss, boy.”
“You say that every holiday,” he said.
“And every holiday people fuss anyway.”
Her eyes moved toward the hallway mirror and away again so quickly most people would have missed it.
Mason did not.
