Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“The movers’ deposit was six hundred dollars,” I said, looking at Martha. “But I have enough left in my personal account to cover the utility bill next month.”
“Don’t worry about the utility bill,” Martha said, adjusting her glasses. “We will handle it together.”
“I want to pay my own way,” I said.
“You are paying your way,” Shaun said, standing up and brushing the grass from his jeans. “You brought this family back to this house.”
He walked toward his truck, his steps easy and light on the gravel. We watched him drive down Elm Lane, the sound of his engine fading into the quiet of the afternoon.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the air turned cool. The sky changed from blue to a deep, soft violet, with streaks of orange cutting through the clouds.
Martha went inside and returned carrying Luna, who was yawning against her shoulder. In her other hand, my mother held the old pink blanket, the one with the faded satin binding that had once been mine.
