We stand in the kitchen. Silence spreads like an oil slick. Very slick. It covers the surface of our marriage. I watch your back, the set of your shoulders. Alert for warning signs.
A great man for Shakespeare my Dad, "lay on McDuff;" and "Time and the hour run through the roughest day." He'd say. That day I heard him fall. Saw him, face livid, lips blue.
Things happen to my mother. She says it's because she's too impulsive. She acts first and regrets it later. A friend once called her 'Calamity Jane' and the nickname stuck.