If I had to describe the next few minutes that passed between the three of us, then I would only be able to do so using three words—tense and silent. Karen didn’t dare to say anything, knowing that she had officially been removed from this conversation, and that it was now only between Anna and I—it was now only between mother and son. The said woman, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to blow a gasket, looked like she was ready to have steam blow out of her ears, as if she was about to turn red as a result of the anger.
And as amusing as this would have been in any other situation, as animated as I was imagining it, I knew that this was no laughing matter, knew that I needed to be serious, or else I would run the risk of angering her even farther, and considering that I would
