A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
Sometimes she treated mine as another loose end.
“I thought we agreed on a quiet dinner at the bistro downstairs,” I said.
“We did, but things changed.
Everything is so hectic right now.
We can do next weekend instead.”
“Next weekend is a long way off.”
She checked her watch.
“It is just one day, Mom, and sixty-two is not exactly a major milestone anyway.”
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