I thought, that’s all I ever wanted from my own girl.
Just to be asked.
On the tenth day, a Thursday, I was frying potatoes for supper when a pickup door slammed out front.
I knew the sound of that door. It’s Todd’s Ford. The driver’s side has stuck ever since he backed into the mailbox.
I turned the burner down and looked out the window over the sink.
Michelle was getting out of the passenger side. She still had her work clothes on, the scrubs with the little cartoon teeth on them from the dentist’s office. Her eyes were red clear around.
Todd came around the front of the truck holding a yellow legal pad. Even from the window, I could see the whole top page was covered in his handwriting.
The children weren’t with them.
I wiped my hands on the dish towel and opened the screen door before they could knock.
