I had liked the color before I had ever spread it beneath his plates.

“Keep them.”

She folded them and put them in the box marked Bethesda.

I was not required to surrender everything I had enjoyed just because I had enjoyed it in the wrong marriage.

My father drove me to the waterfront house that weekend.

We opened windows and found a chair beneath an old sheet.

There were repairs I had delayed, paint that needed attention, and a door that stuck against its frame.

He pushed gently while I turned the handle.