Activity

Harris walked into the kitchen as we were finishing up. He paused, watching us smooth on the monkfruit-sugar frosting. I held my breath.

Almond cookies with jam in the middle, grain-free banana muffins, carrot custard—even when they turned out all wrong Harris always gobbled them up, which was t…

I tried to watch a TV show everyone was talking about, but all the references to sex and marriage and infidelity made me weep and that’s what the show was about. I almost wished for an FMH flashback just to be taken out of the present, even for a second. The NICU was hell, but we were together in i…

When I didn’t pack my bag for Monrovia on Wednesday morning (why would I go?), Sam and Harris both seemed disappointed. Sam wanted another pizza night and Harris wanted a break from our silent, relentless war. Fair enough. As I drove I suddenly realized these nights apart were probably the first st…

I lay on my bed with wide-open eyes, shivering but somehow unable to get under the covers. I could hear the murmur of Harris’s voice on the phone; he was telling someone what had just happened. I imagined getting up right now, slipping out the front door and finding that all the women in the neighb…

I was far outside of Monrovia when I started walking back to the motel. As I came down to Earth I wondered if I’d misunderstood the fork in the road Mary had been talking about. I’d thought the two paths were:

sex with Davey  vs.  a life of bitterness and regret

But maybe the road split betwe…