His expression softened.
“I see.”
“No, you don’t.”
I regretted snapping at him afterward.
But the crookedness mattered.
Thomas had made it with nervous hands behind a football field.
I didn’t want anyone correcting it.
And now, on my seventy-third birthday, there was a perfect gold ring sitting three feet away.
Three knocks came again.
I finally walked toward the door.
The copper wire felt strangely heavy on my finger.
I opened it.Chemistry
Walter stood on my porch.
I had known Walter for nearly thirty years.
Or at least I thought I had.
He lived across the street.
Quiet man.
Widower.
Gray hair.
Always wore a cap when he worked outside.
We waved.
Sometimes spoke over the fence.
Nothing more.
When his wife died two years earlier, I brought over a casserole.
He thanked me.
That was probably the longest conversation we had ever had.
Now he stood there holding his cap in both hands.
