Sunday, December 29


On Christmas Eve, my brother and I took my mother to a trendy sushi restaurant. My brother had just arrived from London, I had spent the afternoon cooking huge amounts of pasta, potatoes and beans. When we sat down I wanted to tell my brother something amazing: that I was engaged to someone I truly loved, that we would move to Paris or China, that even though I looked poor I had bought a new apartment and a horse. In reality it felt like I had aged a lot within a short time, that I had lost part of my beauty, and that every time he looked at me he saw my loss. For some reason I still wanted my brother’s approval, still wanted him to tell me what I did was right. My mother ordered sushi with black caviar, then dropped half of her caviar in her soy sauce. When we finished eating my brother said: “Margot, we have to teach our mother how to use chopsticks. The way she uses them is a disgrace.”