“She did not say much to me,” I said.
“Well, hope everything is okay,” Jim said, turning back toward his house. “Let me know if you need to borrow the leaf blower this week.”
“Thanks, Jim,” I said.
I stood in the driveway for a long minute, watching the streetlights flicker on down the block.
The blue thermos on my kitchen counter had initials that did not belong to anyone in my family. Lauren had been in a rush to leave, more frantic than she had ever been during our worst arguments.
I walked back up the porch steps, the wood creaking under my work boots.
When I opened the door, the house was completely dark except for the single lamp near the television.
The silence in the living room was louder than any alarm I had ever heard.
I led Tommy into the kitchen, his small hand cold and limp in mine. He kept his back perfectly straight as we walked, moving with a strange, hitching stride that made my chest tighten with every step.
