Eighteen Years After Ray Abandoned Him on a Dirt Road, Thomas Found His Mother’s Letter

My name was written in Megan’s quick slant.

I didn’t open it in front of Diane.

I put it in my coat pocket beside the restraining order.

“Nine o’clock Thursday,” I said.

“Nine o’clock Thursday,” she repeated.

I stepped back to the white line.

The pavilion frame stood black against the gray sky, and Uncle Pete’s truck was still parked on the grass.

The yellow tape stretched from Diane’s mailbox to the utility pole, and her porch light came on behind it.