My Husband Came Home to an Empty Nursery

come here,” she said.

“Is Connie okay?”

That question arrived late and weak. It limped in after the others.

Marlene didn’t help him with it.

“Come to room 412,” she said.

Then she hung up.

He arrived forty minutes later in the same cashmere pullover, now wrinkled at the cuffs. His hair was flattened on one side. He had that airport smell: coffee, sweat, continue reading …