IT’S NOT THAT I think my parents will get back together. I know they won’t.

We were in the kind of love people only are when they just don’t know any better.

We wake up early, you and I, and go to the hospital. Anxious, empty stomachs.

Seven years ago, during that week in every September when summer turns to autumn, my husband and I rented a car to drive the long distance from Oregon to Massachusetts.