The Gift Wrapped in Brown Paper
I took his hands in mine to still them.
“Otis,” I said.
“Why didn’t you show me those photos before tonight?
Why did you carry all of that by yourself?” He was quiet for a long moment, looking down at our hands.
And then he said the thing I have not been able to forget, in a voice so small it barely reached me.
“If I showed you at home,” he whispered, “you would’ve just cried alone in the kitchen.