Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document

“Thank you, Mom,” he said.

“I hated having all this awful tension between us.”

At a quarter to seven, I got up from the kitchen table to collect my purse and umbrella.

Julian walked beside me down the hall toward the front door.

As I reached for my purse on the little entry table, my eyes landed on the wooden mantel above the decorative fireplace.

A small blue china dish sat on the left side of the polished oak shelf.