Author Archives: T

“I’m his father,” Dr. Avery said. “Nathan is my son.” The room tilted. The baby in my arms made a small sound, and the silver-haired man who’d just delivered her had to […]

I didn’t put the key down. “Whose paintings are these, Grant?” I asked, still facing the canvases. “Yours. From a long time ago. Before.” He stepped into the doorway. “Nora, you’re going […]

Caleb tucked the folded speech back into his gown, leaned toward the microphone, and the whole stadium quieted for a young man who’d clearly decided to say something he hadn’t rehearsed. “They […]

I told her the truth, because once somebody finally looks at you, the lying gets too heavy to hold. “Since my mom’s hours got cut,” I said. “A few months. It’s not […]

They called me the afterthought my whole life. Never cruelly. That’s the thing. Casual is worse than cruel — cruel at least means somebody’s thinking about you. I was my father’s son […]

I had the quiet man at table six pegged as a bad tipper before he even ordered. You learn to read tables fast when you’ve worked as many doubles as I have. […]

I was twenty-nine, lying in a transfusion chair with a needle in my arm, when a nurse accidentally told me my father loved me. I should explain the chair first. I have […]

My mother put her hand on a Bible, looked a judge in the eye, and testified that I made up eight years of my life. Eight years. Two deployments. A combat medic’s […]

For three weeks, I was the crazy one. That’s how my husband told it, and he told it well. To his mother, over the phone, in a low concerned voice: “Nora’s been […]

It was Field Day, the whole school was watching, and they left her on the sideline. I’m Marcus Bell. Twenty-nine, first year teaching PE at Cedar Park Elementary. I still get nervous […]