“What do they like to eat?”
“Mom, normal food.”
“Does Susan drink tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, I think.”
“Any allergies?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What kind of pillows does Richard prefer?”
“Mom. I have absolutely no idea what kind of pillow my father-in-law likes.”
That didn’t stop her.
She drove into the city and bought brand-new sheets for the guest room.
Four-hundred-thread-count.
Pale blue.
New towels.
Fluffy white ones.
She even put together a little basket in the bathroom with miniature soaps, lotions, and a candle.
Like a hotel.
She scrubbed the entire cabin.
Washed every window.
Had the carpets professionally cleaned.
When I arrived the Friday before everyone else, I found her on her knees scrubbing baseboards with a toothbrush.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“I want everything to be nice.”
“It is nice. It’s a lake cabin. Nobody expects perfection.”
She sat back on her heels.
“They’re family now.”
I looked at her.
“You married Daniel,” she continued. “So in a way, we’re all family now. I want them to feel welcome.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So I got on the floor and helped her scrub.
That summer, the weather stayed beautiful.
