to the next thing without asking how my day had gone. I told myself she was exhausted; I could see that she was.
A few days later, my three oldest friends sent a photograph from their reunion in Santa Fe. We’d planned it for almost a year. I’d canceled my flight because Claire said she needed me for one more crucial week while she traveled. Martha wrote, “We missed you.” I sat on the guest bed looking at the four places around their restaurant table and the empty one I’d
