A Greenhouse in Late September and the Harvest That Saved My Husband

palms, his thumbs rubbing together.

“If you do not help me,” Brandon said, “I will have to sell the car. I will have nothing left.”

“You have your health,” I said, “which is more than your father had when you were changing his medication.”

He went quiet, his eyes shifting to the window where the first drops of rain were starting to strike the glass.

“I continue reading …