The first thing Eleanor Hale learned after twenty-six years in prison was that her husband had died rich. The second was that he had told everyone she was dead. The […]
The Dress My first husband left me the moment he found out I was pregnant. I have told that sentence to very few people over the years, because of what […]
The Inspection I have lived in the same house for almost five years, and in that time I have come to understand something about the particular pleasure of a quiet […]
The dark red wine struck me squarely in the chest. The icy liquid spread across my thin silk dress, blooming into a deep crimson stain beneath the outdoor chandeliers, and […]
The Lake House My name is Walter Kowalski. I was born in Erie, Pennsylvania, in the spring of 1958, in a house that smelled of kielbasa and radiator heat and […]
The Brass Clasp The sales clerk had already wrapped everything in tissue paper. This is the detail I keep returning to, the tissue paper, because it represents a particular kind […]
The Letter Opener Margaret’s letter opener was silver, slim, with a small engraving of a dogwood blossom near the handle that had worn smooth over forty years of use. She […]
Who Really Owned the House I had just closed on my beach house when my sister called and announced she was arriving with twenty two of her in laws. She […]
The First of the Month The wind off the Maine coast in October is not polite about it. It comes in flat and direct, the kind of cold that finds […]
Forty Lines My mother threw my grandmother’s forty one year old savings passbook into the trash and said, “That’s junk.” I quietly kept it. And thirteen months later, when I […]