I stared into my coffee. « I know. I just wish loving me came with secret handshakes and cinnamon rolls. »
Denise touched my arm. « You’re her mother, Dani. »
By noon, Mark came home alone.
The front door slammed so hard a picture frame fell from the hallway table.
« Dani! »
I dropped the laundry basket.
« You know she loves you too, right? »
Mark stood there soaked, gray-faced, his hands shaking so badly his keys hit the floor.
« What happened? »
His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
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