“Esther?”“I’m okay,” I say. “Better than okay.”Miles’s grin stretches wide. “Good. That’s what I was going for.”“I would have thought it would be obvious,” I tell him. I set aside the water and settle back down onto the blankets. He tosses aside the washcloth and joins me.“I’ve never given it so
Life continues on for a while as it ever does. Pressing forward whether you are ready for it or not.Garnar continues to whisper poison into my daughters’ ears. I try to correct it when I can, but I can see their growing distain in their day to day interactions with me.I try to do things with them,
“Who is that?” Violet asks.“Politician,” Iris replies.“That’s Representative Miles Hamilton,” I tell them. “He’s running for president.” I want to impress them so I say, “I can wave. Maybe he’ll come over and say hi.”“Yeah, right, Mom,” Iris says, rolling her eyes.Iris nudges Violet away and the
I’m heartbroken and humiliated. Even the producers and handlers working for Miles can see that, and start ushering the camera crews away.There are conversations that need to be had, likely therapists that need to be hired. But none of that needs to happen right here.“I love you, Iris, and you, Vio
Not sure what else to do, I turn and walk right out of the room.“I’ll call you when dinner is ready!” he says after me.And not all that long later, he does.“Food’s on! Everyone to the table!” Garnar announces at the base of the stairs.I step out of my room, still confused.The girls are confused
My realtor, Mrs. Pine, is a stout woman in her late fifties. Like me, she was a homemaker for much of her life, though unlike me, she has a supportive husband who encouraged her to find a job once their kids grew up and left the house.Still, she is personable and reliable. She’s never late, always
“I live not too far from here,” Mrs. Pine says. “This house is always in bloom in the spring.”I have a good feeling about this house and hope the girls do to. “What do you think, Violet? Iris?”Violet worries her bottom lip, glancing at her sister. “I… think it’s okay…”“I hate it,” Iris snaps. Wha
The campaign event is being held in the hockey arena downtown. The ice has been covered and the space redesigned as it often is for concerts, with a stage on one side and seats in lines down on the floor.The space for reporters is right up front near the stage, but when I first arrive, I hover near