Wyatt delivered the rocking chair.

Dad carried a box marked KITCHEN, set it on the counter, and announced he had brought groceries but would never issue cooking orders.

I laughed so hard my scar twinged, though by then it had healed well.

The hardest part of moving wasn’t the boxes or the paperwork.

It was unpacking things that carried memories of the life I’d thought we were building.

I opened a carton of wedding photographs and found one of Lucas laughing while Mom’s old friends danced at our reception.