She told him about sitting (at age seven) in the back of her mother's boyfriend's Lexus while he did some kind of dealing that involved shots and sirens and her mother screeching around to pick him up on the run from some kind of trauma narrowly escaped. Oh shit, she said, as she ducked down in the back seat.  

She told him about Fernando, who in front of his family, to show that he was a real man, hit her mother, who gave him a look which I cannot even imagine, and her mother snatched the keys to his shiny truck and they drove a long ways, finally to the police, who treated them well because her mother treated them. They sold the truck and later took all of Fernando's belongings and strew them all up and down the blocks of the street he was on. "And we sold the damn truck" her mother shouted.  

She told him that on the day that four feet of snow fell, and the schools were closed, she, who was short for a fourth grader, plowed slowly through the deep deep white newfallen and shook the closed gates to be let in. " I have to go to school" she said.  

She told him, sitting in the Health Department building, waiting to be told that we were too late to take the test today, that this would be a great place to work. Eleven dollars and hour and a chance to help people that might really need help.  

She told him that she will open a women's health clinic in Guatemala.  

She told him that she has one good friend she hasn't fucked.  

She told him that love is a very overused word.  

She told him to leave... "I don't ever want to see you again"  

She told him that she missed him.  

She told him that this was getting way too serious.  

She told him that it was a good idea, not seeing each other for a few days and she said he should get laid in the interval.  

She fed him blueberries, nectarines; in bed she tore slices of raisin bread and placed them in his mouth so surely he thought he would burst from it.  

And just once, softly, she told him she loved him.