It all starts with the weather. Comes a day when summer…
My cousin and her husband, both astrophysicists, wear puffy coats and shiny
sunglasses. They step out of their SUV, arriving at our house for the weekend. I haven’t spent much time with Laura the last twenty years. I only see her at my mom’s annual Christmas Eve party.
Laura’s seven-year-old daughter fumbles out of the car and clings to her doll. My girls, just slightly older, escort her into the house. After our initial embrace, Laura and her husband Caleb shift on the crumbling pavement. They peer around, unsure where to look.Subscribe to read the full text.