I Paid Twelve Thousand Five Hundred Dollars for a Family Trip, and They Planned It Without Me
I opened the bill drawer.
No checkbook.
I opened it again, wider.
Pens, stamps, the tiny screwdriver, a rubber band around nothing.
I adjusted my watch band and stood still.
The bottom drawer stuck.
It always stuck.
I pulled it out with both hands, and there was the checkbook, under the takeout menus, lying on its side.