11Feb 25, 2022
In the morning, while the coffee drips and darkens and I pour rich cream into the bottom of a mug, Riley stands on a chair, riffling the contents of a cabinet in search of a flower vase. Yesterday, she walked in after school with armfuls of Valentine’s Day love–flowers and balloons and chocolates, fresh with […]
12Dec 3, 2021
Mirrors lie, Amor Towles wrote in A Gentleman in Moscow. I had to grab a pen and write the quote in my journal because it rang true, because I had heard those lies for most of my life. I remember it now, away from home, as I walk through a glassy, windowed hallway and catch […]
13Nov 12, 2021
When Riley cries, she turns red, as though her whole body must make up for any failure to express herself clearly in words. This morning as we walk to the car, her eyes, which were already rimmed an angry color, look pink from the press of her palms as she rubs away her tears. The […]
14Aug 27, 2021
“So for some reason, this verse made me think of you,” my friend says, flicking her finger back and forth on the edge of an index card as we settle onto her porch beneath warm party lights glowing in the cloudy afternoon and ferns gently swaying. I cradle the coffee cup in my hands and […]
15Jun 4, 2021
“Mom?” Riley reaches into the cabinet to my right, rising up on her toes behind me, leaning like a shoot. I wash dishes at the sink, my sore hands soothed by the hot water, the soft soap. The bottoms of my feet hurt from standing so long, and at the end of an afternoon spent […]
16Dec 4, 2020
Riley walks through the doorway after school, arms loaded with packages, her left hand stuffed with envelopes. Her eyes glitter above the haul, masked though she is by all the trappings of shipping. Her day-weary braid swings and bobs against the backpack on her back; flyaways fall against the rosy apples of her cheeks. “We’ve […]
17Oct 18, 2019
The pavement stretches, dappled in shadow. I walk, looking down, weighted by a thousand things, watching my feet. Those feet, they pound tired, thunking against the road. I move past a puddle, a murky earth-carved divot full of leftovers from yesterday’s rain. In my heart, I replay hurtful conversations; I am cistern, collecting disappointment. On […]
18Jun 21, 2019
Before the sun, I’m up, roaming the kitchen. The vinyl tile faintly settles beneath my feet, lightly popping like my stiff knees, like that tight place in my neck. I gently twist, warming up for the day, turning toward the kettle spitting steam on the stove. The piping water gushes, splashing a little as I […]
19May 31, 2019
“What else I can do to help?” Riley asks again for maybe the sixth time, hands on her hips, that grin stretching wide. Riley loves to help. She asks this of my so-beautiful friend, who stands hot-cheeked and fingering a hasty ponytail, assessing an assortment of baskets heaped with supplies, a row of folding tables […]
20Nov 16, 2018
“Who are these for?” Zoe asks, watching as I pour caramel sauce into dessert cups. The sticky, golden ribbons slide off of the end of the spoon, pooling. She’s grinning, tossing the words as though in joust. “Well,” I begin, carefully dipping the spoon back into the pot for more of the buttery sweet. But […]