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

name’s Robbie,” Ethan said.

Not Robert.

Robbie.

Small enough to be his own person. Close enough to make my throat ache.

I didn’t ask whether Emily agreed to the name. I knew the answer without hearing it.

I brought out the blanket from the cedar chest.

The same ivory wool.

The same blue stars.

The seam repaired so finely not even I could spot it at a glance.continue reading …