“I'm so sorry, Margaret,” I said, extending my arms so the pie’s warmth and smell floated below her nose. “I know it’s not enough, but I hope it’s worth something.”
I imagined Margaret thinking of all the hours I spent comforting her until she was strong enough to move on with her life. She had to forgive me, I thought, because friendship couldn’t expire from actions that weren’t even mine. She only blinked, as if I hadn't said a word. I felt like a fool. I looked at my shoes— brown Birkenstocks I had for five years. The pie suddenly felt too heavy and I lowered it at our feet. Everything else felt heavy too —her silence, her dead stare —so I headed back to my car with my stomach in knots, my throat dry, making it hard to swallow.
“You know,” …show more content…
I was kind, respectful, a good neighbor, a good, reliable friend. In that horrible instant, I wanted Margaret to remember her once unbearable pain so she'd leave my problems alone. My kindness fell onto her driveway, shattering into invisible, dangerous pieces.
“Andrés is not your …show more content…
I looked up at our bedroom window and imagined Frank, his day off, sleeping in, dreaming of a world where nothing changed, nothing threatened, nothing questioned. I imagined what he’d think if he heard me whisper the words to our daughter: No, I am not. Which translated to: We are not on the same page. I wonder if we ever were. Erin waited. I listened to the woodpecker that showed up in the beginning of every summer hammer into the oak tree in the back yard. It drove Frank crazy, but for some reason he let the animal be. I wished I knew what to tell her then, but staring at her while focusing on the annoying sound in the distance, she seemed like a wolf that had lost her pack, deprived of food, about to rip into my pale flesh, and I couldn’t do or say anything to save
I imagined Margaret thinking of all the hours I spent comforting her until she was strong enough to move on with her life. She had to forgive me, I thought, because friendship couldn’t expire from actions that weren’t even mine. She only blinked, as if I hadn't said a word. I felt like a fool. I looked at my shoes— brown Birkenstocks I had for five years. The pie suddenly felt too heavy and I lowered it at our feet. Everything else felt heavy too —her silence, her dead stare —so I headed back to my car with my stomach in knots, my throat dry, making it hard to swallow.
“You know,” …show more content…
I was kind, respectful, a good neighbor, a good, reliable friend. In that horrible instant, I wanted Margaret to remember her once unbearable pain so she'd leave my problems alone. My kindness fell onto her driveway, shattering into invisible, dangerous pieces.
“Andrés is not your …show more content…
I looked up at our bedroom window and imagined Frank, his day off, sleeping in, dreaming of a world where nothing changed, nothing threatened, nothing questioned. I imagined what he’d think if he heard me whisper the words to our daughter: No, I am not. Which translated to: We are not on the same page. I wonder if we ever were. Erin waited. I listened to the woodpecker that showed up in the beginning of every summer hammer into the oak tree in the back yard. It drove Frank crazy, but for some reason he let the animal be. I wished I knew what to tell her then, but staring at her while focusing on the annoying sound in the distance, she seemed like a wolf that had lost her pack, deprived of food, about to rip into my pale flesh, and I couldn’t do or say anything to save