Chapter 13

I got out of the car and walked along the weed-choked path to the ten-foot wooden gate leading into the backyard. Unlatching the lock and stepping into a pocket of heaven, I was welcomed by my mother’s white and red rosebushes, blue morning glories climbing the arbor, and flowerbeds brimming with lilacs and chrysanthemums and hollyhock. It was years of upkeep after my mother died and my father’s hospitalization. But I promised her I’d come around to take care of her life; however long, until a prosperous buyer came knocking to purchase our memoires.

I dug out my keys from my pocket and let myself inside by the patio door. I set my briefcase on the countertop and opened the refrigerator door, staring into the white light for a long minute until I reached for a bottle of beer and uncapped it. I gulped, feeling the rough edges of the day smoothing out.