“I’m giving up,” I said. “‘Moon over Martinborough’ is never going to be a book.”
Ever since I’d started this blog I’d wanted to turn it into a book, but I was losing hope.
“Maybe you shouldn’t give up just yet,” Uncle Oscar replied.
Holly and Mia put their feet in the water and screamed. “Freeeeezing!”
It was a hot summer day, and we were at a tiny beach along Palliser Bay, not far from Ngawi. The sky was perfectly blue. It didn’t seem like danger could be that close.
CJ called me at work on Thursday morning in a panic. “It’s going to rain all day Saturday!” he said. “We need to cancel Thanksgiving!”
Some might think canceling Thanksgiving due to a little rain is a bit extreme. Those people have never been to one of our Thanksgiving parties.
Back in 2003, my sister called from Michigan and left me a voice message that I’ll never forget. “I have something to tell you,” she said. “I think you know what it is.” She was right.
I knew my dad was dead.
