William Edwards Leaves His Screaming Son on a Friday Afternoon in Hartford

“I can make you look like yourself again,” she said. “Or better.” She reached into her bag for a bottle of cooling hazel oil, dabbing it onto a cotton pad. The wet chill of the liquid made my eyes water, but I did not flinch as she worked the oil into the irritated skin. “Did…

The driver set my bags on the grass and lingered for a second. “You want me to wait?” he asked. “No,” I said. “I am home.” The taxi pulled away, leaving me in the heavy, humid silence of the afternoon. I carried my seabag up the three concrete steps to the porch. Before I could…

I pulled three crumpled twenty-dollar bills and a ten from my pocket, my fingers cold against the paper. The wind from the north shook the loose kitchen window pane while the tea kettle began its low whistle. My father sat in the wooden chair by the radiator, his shoulders curved forward as he held a…

By noon, the cedar post at the main gate was frozen solid. I held the cordless drill in my gloved hand, the battery light flashing orange as the sub-zero air drained its power. The small plastic security camera was light, its lens reflecting the gray mountain sky. I lined up the bracket against the rough…

“I am perfectly fine,” she said, without looking at the counter. She adjusted her collar with trembling fingers, her eyes darting toward the sink where her dirty teacup sat. She walked slowly toward the hallway, her fingers immediately reaching up to adjust the knot of her scarf. I followed her, stopping near the narrow wooden…

“A doctor has to carry all sorts of resources, Rachel,” he said, sliding the card into his shirt pocket. “You know how forgetful the elderly can get when their families start asking questions.” He smiled, a small, reassuring curve of his lips that had kept me steady for over twenty years. For a second, the…