look at me, instead staring down at his silver watch strap, adjusting it twice in quick succession. “I couldn’t sleep, Evelyn.”
“Come inside,” I said, turning toward the stove to put the kettle on. “I was just about to make some tea.”
“No, stay here with me for a minute,” he said, his voice lower than usual, carrying a tremor I had never heard before.continue reading …
I stepped out onto the porch, the painted wood cold beneath my thin-soled shoes.
He took my hand, his palm dry and surprisingly warm, though he did not squeeze it. “I’ve been drowning since Clara died, Evelyn, just going through the motions at the store.”
I waited, my throat tight as I watched a crow land on the power line across Elm Street.
“But when continue reading …
