Everything I Never Told You

Some days, though, even these talismans lost their power.

What mother doesn’t love to cook with her little girl? Beneath that: And what little girl doesn’t love learning with Mom? Little bumps pocked the page all over, as if it had been out in the rain, and Lydia stroked them like Braille with her fingertip. She did not understand what they were until a tear splashed against the page. When she wiped it aw

early-evening sunlight splashing across the tablecloth like melted butter,

No details to catch in the crevices of her mind.

He has undone the great mistake of her life. Except—and he can’t deny this, no matter how he tries—Marilyn had not seemed grateful. She had flinched, as if he’d spat in her face. She had bitten her lips once, twice, as if swallowing a hard, painful seed.

She hugged her knees and sent soft and patient thoughts, but her sister did not hear them.

something treasured and loved; something they might miss but would not grieve.

But James, still thinking of Marilyn’s mother, hears something else.

After all, she had been late before. When she’d been stressed, or sick, as if her body hadn’t enough attention to keep everything running, as if something had to be put on hold.