At My Son’s Celebration, My Sister-in-Law Took the Microphone

and one untied dress shoe.

Daniel stood beside my car while I buckled the strap around the cake box so it wouldn’t tip over on the drive home.

“You were right,” he said.

“About what?”

“Staying away until I could be solid.”

I shut the trunk.

The night smelled like rain on hot pavement.

“You missed a lot.”

“I know.”

I looked at him.

He didn’t flinch from it.

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