Things were shaping up like a midlife crisis, but without the sports car. There were other women in my husband’s life now. Women in brown habits who must have prayed harder than I did.
The kids were still damp in their bathing suits, legs dangling from the red bench under the ice cream shop’s striped awning. They were happy in a subdued way, displaying the kind of excellent behavior that results from a great output of energy in good clean fun at the public pool. They deserved ice cream. Their visiting Florida grandparents seemed delighted to be surrounded by their four curly heads and pleased with how the day was unfolding.…
I found a note under my 9-year-old’s pillow:
Dear Tooth Farie,
Would you mind if I could have my tooth, the one that was split in half, back for tomaro? I would be very happy and would bring it back the next night. Inside this box is a half Dollar.
Please and hopefully thank you.
My daughter watched me as I read the scrap of paper. She herself had apparently forgotten the note; her request had been suffocating there under the striped pillow for days. Whatever box there had been was gone.…