You Don’t Run Away

What’d you learn in Sunday school today? I ask her. We’re in the entryway gathering shoes, stuffing a tote with bug spray, hats, sunglasses. We’re off to the pool. I learned that when someone is sad, you don’t run away. You hug each other, she says, slipping on Crocs. That’s a great thing to learn,

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The Knock

There was a time I didn’t answer the door. — Once, when I was pregnant with Bee, an acquaintance I’d known from church asked if she could bring dinner over after the baby was born. Do you like Greek? she’d asked. (I love Greek.) But then, the baby was born and the visitors descended and

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Safety Nets

Fall is ending. Our last unseasonably warm stretch is behind us, and I’ve traded my straw hat for wool. — The highlight of her evening is Octonauts. She likes it because Dashy (or is it Tweak?) talks like a Country-Western star and Bee has, since, adopted this trait for herself. Where’s mah coat? I need

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