The last morning I saw my son, he burned the toast. It was a Tuesday in January. Seven-fifteen. Still dark outside. The kitchen smelled like smoke and coffee, and Lucas […]
“Starting January first, you pay two thousand dollars a month in rent, or you disappear.” My son said it standing up, with a glass of bourbon in one hand and […]
The doorbell rang once, sharp and certain, on a bright afternoon in early spring. Grandma wiped her hands on her apron and smiled a little. “Maybe it’s the mailman.” She […]
The two silver BMWs pulled into the gravel lot of St. Andrews Chapel in formation, one behind the other, like a motorcade for someone important. I was standing at the […]
I remember the sound of the laughter more than anything else. It was December 23rd, and we were sitting around Grandma Evelyn’s dining table in her little log cabin outside […]
The text came in on a Tuesday in July, a little after six in the morning, while I was still pulling my boots on in the dark kitchen. I remember […]
“Quit fussing, Donna.” That was all he said. He said it to his pie. It was Sunday dinner, the first week of June, and my brother Vince was at my […]
I bought eleven acres outside Dunmore, Nebraska, for one reason. I wanted to be left alone with my grief where nobody would watch me do it. Carol had been gone […]
“Arrive at two,” my son said. I had the phone pinched between my ear and my shoulder, and flour up both arms to the elbow. It was the first Sunday […]
The safety pin was what I saw first. Not the dress. The pin. A plain steel safety pin pushed straight through the lace of the left cuff, holding a white […]