I was playing with my baby doll in my room after dinner when the house grew very quiet. All I could hear was the hum of the dishwasher. I could smell the lemon soap my mother had used to wash the kitchen table and the dusty scent from the vacuum cleaner my father just used on the rugs.

The house was very still and dim. I could hear the water running as my father took a shower and the television downstairs entertaining my three brothers and two sisters.

The scent of my mother’s perfume filled my bedroom. I tiptoed across the dark hall, afraid of disturbing the unusual silence. The door to my parent’s bedroom was open an inch, and I peered in. I saw my mother, dressed in a white blouse and black dress pants, putting on a gold necklace with a matching bracelet and earrings. She turned her head suddenly; she must have spotted me. She motioned for me to come and sit on her bed as she continued to get ready. I lay on my stomach, my chin nestled in my hands as I looked at my mother in the mirror. Her beautiful gold jewelry reflected in the mirror, glistening brightly. Jet-black hair brushed the back of her neck. Her pretty, round face was so fair it almost matched the white of her freshly ironed blouse.

Again she squirted perfume on the soft insides of her wrists and rubbed them together. Lying on my mother’s bed, looking at her in the mirror, I couldn’t help but notice her exquisite beauty. She sat on the bed and put me on her lap.

“Emily will be here in a few minutes to watch you tonight,” she said softly. “Your father and I are meeting some friends for dinner. We’ll be back around nine.” She hugged me and told me to go out and wait for Emily. As she hugged me, her scent grew stronger, and so did our love.