I poured orange juice into two little glasses at the kitchen counter, and the autumn sun slanted in through the window over the sink, laying a long yellow stripe across the table.

Micah took his usual chair and picked up his spoon.

No cereal box.

He just ate, quiet and steady, scraping the last of the oatmeal out of the bowl and asking for seconds before I had even sat down with my coffee.

“Can I have the one with the bear on it?” he said.

I dug the bear-shaped instant oatmeal out of the back of the pantry, and he ate that too.

Elsie came out of her room in her pajamas with her hair sticking up on one side, and she climbed into my lap without saying anything and rested her head on my chest.