“Let them talk.”
“That isn’t what worries me.”
She touched my arm.
“I’m worried you’ve needed help for so long that you may not notice when help becomes something else.”
I went back to work.
But the sentence followed me all day.
THE PARTY
Marcus had invited the entire office to his house that Saturday.
He knew I had nobody to watch Sophie, so he told me to bring her.
“She likes coming here anyway,” he said.
Then, with a softer smile:
“Especially because of Daniel’s mug.”
That mug had become an odd little ritual.
Years earlier, Daniel and Marcus had taken a road trip to Lake Briarwood.
Daniel bought a battered travel mug somewhere along the way.
Marcus somehow ended up keeping it.
After Daniel died, Sophie became fascinated with it.
Every time we visited Marcus, she reached for it.
Maybe because it belonged to her father.
