My Son Called at Midnight About the Blanket His Wife Threw Away

these floors in socks.

Now he looked half sick.

His hair was wet from the rain. He hadn’t bothered with a jacket. His T-shirt clung to his shoulders, and his face was the same color it had been at the shower.

He saw the blanket immediately.

His eyes dropped to it and stayed there.

“Sit,” I said.

He did.

I took my time. That’s the part he’ll probably tell continue reading …