to apologize for the misunderstanding and stubbornness that had destroyed our marriage.
Snow was melting into the shoulders of my old Army coat when Jessi opened the door. Before I managed a word, a little boy hurried up behind her in bright red Christmas socks, holding a crooked ornament made from cardboard.
“Mom, the star came off again.”
Then he noticed me.
He stopped and tilted his head, wearing the same doubtful expression I had seen in dozens of my childhood photographs. But his eyes were what made my chest
