The Table They Sent Us To
Alton moved into a modest townhouse and got quiet.
He calls my office once a month.
He never asks about Lindsay and never asks me for anything except whether he may mail birthday cards to the kids.
I allow it, on the condition that they carry no excuses, no guilt, and no mention of the rest of them.
I have thought about why I say yes to the cards, when I say no to everything else from that world, and I think it comes down to what happened on the pier.
Alton is the only one of them who, when my nine-year-old told him the truth to his face, did not argue.