I make it light and funny.
I want her to feel easy with me, not tense.
Never that.
Next, we talk about Bingo.
Mostly because neither of us can believe how vicious church seniors become over twenty-dollar prizes.
“Mrs. Russo threatened bodily harm.”
“She did not.”
“She absolutely did.”
“She threatened your ego.”
“Same thing.”
Mary laughs.
“Mr. Lombardi was worse.”
“What about his friend? The guy in the suspenders?”
“The guy in suspenders cheated.”
“You have no proof,” she says.
“I have instincts.”
“Your instincts punched a councilman.”
“Excellent point,” I concede.
She shakes her head.
Still smiling.
Still easy.
Then we drift into talking about school.
The teachers.
The kids.
The gym project.
The permits.
And just like that, the lightness disappears from her face.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough that I notice.