Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

“I brought those cherry danishes you like from the bakery on Fourth Street,” he said, his voice unusually quiet.

I did not touch the box. My joints were stiff from the early morning dampness, and I slowly rubbed my silver wedding band to ease the dull ache.

“I wanted to apologize for how things went with Arthur yesterday,” Gregory said,continue reading …