A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
“I suppose not.”
She looked uncomfortable then.
I might have spared her that discomfort, as I usually did, by mentioning a television program I wanted to watch or pretending I had been looking forward to an early night.
This time I couldn’t find the energy.
She kissed my cheek.
“I’ll call you Tuesday.
I promise.
We’ll get that dinner scheduled.”