Your underwear

"Your underwear is hanging over there."

"Wait, what?" I laughed.

It was 9pm. I had walked down to the bakery after they closed for a pastry.

"How long have they been there?"

"About a week. They were stuck in the washer and I hung them on a hook."

I walk around the corner, and there they were...on a hook in the middle of the shared laundry room.

"Oh my gosh. This is so embarrassing."

"Why? It's just us girls back here!" She laughed.

We talked in the kitchen. I asked about her son. He had been going through his first real high school breakup. Before the holiday, he was doing his homework in my living room while I worked at night because he was too sad to be alone.

"Phi Phi, he asked me when it would stop hurting? I know this has been really hard. I wasn't sure how to tell him this wasn't going to be the only time it will hurt like this. He still has a lifetime ahead of more breakups."

We both laughed.

I walked back upstairs with a pastry and underwear in my hand. Thankful for the little family I've grown to love. The son who knocks on my kitchen door on Saturday morning so I can meet his friends. Who sits on the floor and talks to me while I do dishes. The mom who finishes my laundry if I forget to switch loads and has learned which sweaters to hang dry.

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