Mother and haunted closets

I just thought I heard my mom’s hello, as she might enter the house, expected, “hello?” in mock query.

My dad was moving something in the coat closet, something squeaked against the floor, in a low tone, maybe the sole of a boot, the tone reminded me of a distant greeting, it sounded just like what I would expect when Dad and I were working somewhere, expecting Mom to come by with lunch, or just stopping by between her meetings or errands. She’d open the door, calling out a “hello,” just an announcement, and she’d set down her bag and invariably what she’d brought to us. Hello, she’d want to talk, how are things with you, how are the stores, are you satisfied with the people you have working for you, usually the same questions, and the like.

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