My mother pulled out the softest chair. Mika brought her a warm towel for her shoulders. I turned on the old radio to a low, gentle station.
The first customer was a young woman carrying a crying baby. She had dark circles under her eyes and a half-unbuttoned shirt. She looked at our sign, then at my mother. “Can I… just sit here for ten minutes?” she whispered. Oppaicafe- My Mother- My Sister- and Me -Final-...
My mother. My sister. Me.