lay there for several minutes because I had forgotten what a rested body felt like.
Then I made coffee.
I sat at the kitchen table.
I read the newspaper.
At nine, Karen called.
“How did you sleep?”
“Seven hours.”
She went quiet.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“Dad can be okay and you can be okay too.”
I smiled.
“Your father wrote that.”
“Not exactly.”
“But that’s what he meant.”
Karen laughed.
“He’s smarter than he looks.”
“Do not tell him you said that.”
“I’m telling him immediately.”
A few days later,
