Reunion

July 30, 2012

My husband and I pull up to the small-town Eagles Club on a Saturday night.

“Ready?” I ask him, taking a deep breath as we open our car doors. I step out, tottering briefly on my high heels, smoothing the back of my shirt as I straighten my shoulders. I walk slowly toward the building, continuing on when I realize I don’t recognize the smokers outside, stepping into the gloom of an entryway lit with neon signs. A little nervous, I surreptitiously check that I remembered the essentials: deodorant, gum and no lipstick on my teeth.

It’s my 10-year high school reunion.

The Small Things.

July 28, 2012


It is Saturday.   6 am to be exact.  The bedroom door opens.  I hear pitter-pattering around to my side of the bed. My son says good morning in the sweet voice of a two-year-old learning to talk.  How does a mother resist the invitation, even this early in the morning? 

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