An odd trait in our non-existent relationship. “I get that. I do. I often find myself thinking the same thing. Especially with my marriage.”“Wow... are we really having an honest, normal conversation right now?” I said half sarcastically, half with genuine shock.She smiled, focusing her stare into the distance of the ongoing storm. “Believe it or not,” Megan voiced with authority, “I’m not as bad as you may make me out to be.”I studied her with genuine engagement, as the persona of someone I. Mary vividly recalled that first time she saw him after the accident. The stench. So like roast pork that she could never eat it again. Her stomach roiled at the memory, and threatened to empty it's contents all over the little house she sat in. All over the paisley print table cloth and the yellowed linoleum floor. She choked it back down. Tommy was her son. Hers! She would protect him in spite of himself. She thought of how she and her husband had dreamed of two children. A boy first, and. More

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