Life Stories

I was Volunteer of the Year in 1994. There’s a plaque. I keep it in a drawer, because it embarrasses me. None of it replaced Benjamin. Nothing…

We talked all night. About everything. About nothing. About Rooster. About the porch swing. Around three in the morning, he got quiet. “I’m scared, Belle,” he said….

He laid a folder on the table next to the box. Inside were papers. Service records. A discharge summary from a veterans’ hospital in Ohio. A photocopy…

The man across from me leaned forward. “My name is Edward,” he said. “Benjamin is my father.” The espresso machine. The two women by the counter arguing…

I’d been sitting in that coffee shop for twenty minutes before he came in. Wren had called me the night before. She’d been strange on the phone….

The stranger set the box down between my red carnations and my untouched coffee. It was small and blue. The cardboard kind, with a lid that fits…

Part Ten: What I Took I didn’t take much. One suitcase and one tote bag. My important papers and Richard’s OWNERSHIP folder. My heart medication and my…

Part Eight: Eleanor The next morning, I called Eleanor Price. Eleanor was Richard’s attorney for twenty-five years. She drew up our wills, handled the closing when we…

Part Six: Through the Door Three weeks before Christmas, on a Tuesday afternoon, I was carrying a basket of clean towels up the stairs when I heard…