papers blowing around a room. Every time I almost caught the memory, it slipped away.
Grief had turned my thoughts into loose papers blowing around a room.
Afterward, people surrounded me.
“I’m so sorry, Tisha.”
“Richard was a good man.”
“Please call if you need anything.”
I thanked everyone.
Found somebody’s missing coat.
Told the caterer where to put the coffee.
“Richard was a good man.”
Carried a vase toward the reception room.
“Tisha?”
I turned.
Richard’s sister was holding an empty box.
“Where should these sympathy cards go?”
“On the table beside the guest book. No, wait, people will spill coffee there. Give them to me.”
“Where should these sympathy cards go?”
I reached for the box.
“Mom.”
Daniel stood behind her.
“Give me five minutes, Danny.”
His face went blank, like a shutter closing.
“What?”
“I need to finish this.”
He stared at the box in my arms.
