“Thank you,” I said.
My mother’s eyes shone, though no tears fell. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I stared at her.
“That you were invited,” she said quickly. “That you were doing so well. That Solar Reach had grown like this.”
For a few seconds, the only sound was the distant noise of celebration outside.
Then I said, “Because you told me my work was embarrassing.”
Her lips trembled. “I was worried about you.”
“No,” I said gently, surprising myself with the softness of my voice. “You were embarrassed by me.”
She looked as though I had slapped her, though I had not raised my voice.
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither was crossing my graduation stage alone.”
My father looked down.
My mother’s mouth opened, but no words came.
Derek stepped beside me. Not in front of me. Beside me.
“Mom,” he said, “did you tell me Sarah didn’t want anyone at her PhD ceremony?”
