Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
The yellow cab was idling near the curb when I got back to the house at two o’clock. The three brown leather suitcases were lined up on the damp concrete of the driveway, the very same ones Sable had left in the rain weeks ago. Nathan stood beside them, his hands jammed deep into his trousers pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cool afternoon breeze.
He looked up as I approached, his soft, trailing voice hesitant.
“The driver said he can take them all in the trunk, Mom,” Nathan said, taking his hands out of his pockets to lift the heaviest suitcase.
“Thank you, Nathan,” I said, watching him carry the leather bag to the rear of the cab.
His movements were slow, and he seemed smaller to me now, stripped of the bravado Sable had forced upon him. He closed the trunk with a soft thud and turned back to face me, his hands retreating immediately to his pockets.
“I talked to the real estate agent,” Nathan said, looking down at his shoes. “She said the listing will go live on Monday. She thinks it will sell quickly.”
