had ended the conversation before it even began.
I gave June my new Asheville address.
She was the only person in Ohio who got it.
I asked for nothing.
Just that she know.
Then I watched the mailbox.
Two weeks.
Six.
My ankles swelled.
The baby dropped.
Nothing came.
I told myself the letter had been lost.
The alternative—that even June now believed them—was too heavy.
So I left it alone.
I had other things to carry.
Marin Brand Ives arrived on an April morning three weeks early and completely
