She Walked Out, and Ten Years Later She Showed Up With Expensive Gifts at a Twelfth Birthday Dinner

Mark quit talking.

He straightened up behind the sofa and moved closer to the front window.

“Who’s that?” Lily asked, leaning forward on the cushion to see around Mark’s hip.

“Is Uncle Steve coming by late?”

“Steve drives a rusty pickup with a blue tailgate,” I said.

The heavy car door clicked open out in the dark.

A loud, insistent knock hit the front door.

I swung open the heavy front door and rested my palm on the cool wooden frame.