We scattered some of my ex-husband’s ashes this morning. On what would have been his 68th birthday, my son, his fianée, my sister and brother, and I drove to the inlet of Three Mile Harbor at 5:15.

“Accountants at an Australian car insurance company have found that Capricorns are the safest drivers. You know why that is, Jack?”

Billy T. Conway was dead set against attending his 40th high school reunion. Hell, he hadn’t been to one since his 10th, and only then to check up on his freshman crush, CC, who showed up married to a Frenchman she’d met in college. After that, Billy T got married himself and didn’t bother anymore with reunions.

I am two. My aunt arranges a party of sorts for my pregnant mother, and the women of the family encircle her in the backyard beneath the cherry tree. My mother’s long floral dress hangs off her freckled shoulders, and she smells of lavender soap. Her eldest sister rubs her feet. We pass around a thick piece of thread, each of us adding beads until...

They met at boarding school. He was the class comedian and she was the class beauty. He was determined to become a star; she didn’t know what she wanted, other than to possess him and to be possessed. He was friendly, goofy, and not quite handsome; she was svelte, liked to laugh, and her facial features were so classical that her face could have...

The divorce arrangements were pretty clear and standard. Dad would get us every other weekend and for a month in the summer. Christmas and Thanksgiving they alternated.

On the Sabbath, Mercedes went to church and asked someone if there was anyone who could teach her English. She was directed to a gal sitting near the front. After the service, an arrangement to start lessons was made.

I’m able to do it now, but it was a long time before I could think about my father’s illness and death. For nearly four years, I spent so much time and energy keeping those feelings of loss and pain on the periphery of my mind, not allowing them to break through or interfere with my day-to-day routine. I tried as hard as I could to distract myself...

Dad and I do freewrites and read out loud to each other each morning and eat big salads for lunch. The stories we produce are a new and delightful treasure. My last one went unshared — we were too hungry for me to read. It was about the vast ideological differences between two brothers. His was about his lifelong stand to protect our beachfront...

Although the events in this story took place some time ago, the heart still wants what the heart wants, so in the history of passion, nothing has changed.

Zephyr Rafferty snapped a six-foot switch in two across his knee and threw one half of it across the barnyard. His ancient mutt Misty got up with a hitch in her gait, loped, then attempted a leap in the air. She missed it by a few feet and landed less than gracefully.

Bevel staked a claim to his customary spot on the platform by placing his right penny loafer on the “W” of the Watch-the-Gap sign because that’s where the train door always landed. He’d be the first to board the lead “quiet” car, and sure to get his regular window seat on the sunny side, facing backwards in case of sudden stops.
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