My Mother-in-Law Sat Me by the Service Door

the Last Song

By the time the band packed up, it was close to midnight.

The ballroom looked tired in the way all glamorous rooms do when the guests thin out. Wilting flowers. Lipstick on coffee cups. A lone auction brochure in a puddle of melted ice.

James and I waited in the valet line under the hotel awning. The night air smelled like rain on warm pavement continue reading …