I’m thirty-four now. Charge nurse on the medical floor at Rosary Hospital. I bought a little house in
Corning two years ago, with a porch. I drive a car with a heater that works.
Last Sunday was the second Sunday in April. A spring evening. Golden light on the water.
The cattails along the east bank are as thick as a hedge now. Six feet tall. The redwing blackbirds
nest in them every year. The cottonwood is leafing out.
I sat at the end of the dock in my green flannel and a ball cap. Brittany sat on one side of me with Earla in her lap, three weeks old, wrapped in a quilt Mom made. Mom sat on my other side.Track Pregnancy
Dad was on the bank with the coffee can. Vern was on his bucket across the water.
Earla was asleep. Brittany was holding her cane pole one-handed, the way Grandpa used to hold his while he poured coffee from a thermos.
