My Son Brought A Nursing Home Brochure To My Birthday Dinner And Thought I Would Break

washed the dessert plates while I sat at the table with the birthday candles burned down to their last half-inch, their wax pooling onto the lemon frosting.

“You okay, Helen?”

“No,” I said.

She nodded. “Good. Means you’re not pretending.”

Outside, both cars were gone. The driveway looked empty the way it had since Walter’s car was donated. But the house continue reading …