rson, I'll take

e a solid weight in my chest. Manager of the new community co-op gar

on, Caleb, into our beat-up Ford, leaving behind the only home

n instructed to call

elt town, running his family's auto shop, caring for his aging parents while he built a c

itions. We were to be distant relatives, staying temporarily. I was Molly Johns, a

med of the blue-collar dus

base housing, a sterile, white-walled box that smelle

concrete patio. Tomatoes, herbs, a few marigolds to keep the bugs away. It was a small piece o

his crisp uniform, his face tigh

hell is th

low, but sha

eel a little more like home. An

his eyes darting around as if the neighbors were all watching,

n, for the first tim

as buckets of dirt on her patio? S

der green shoots into the communal dumpster, the roots tearing as I pulled

the fir

the shiny, well-dressed children of officers, learned

s face streaked with dirt and te

eal dad. They said we're ju

so much like Ethan' s, swimming wit

real family? Why does he

s he sobbed. The pain was sharp and absolute.

ving. We would go back to a place where we

until my new job started.