Chapter 1: Darren’s Umbrella
My twelve-year-old son gave away the last thing his father ever bought him.
Three mornings later, our front lawn was covered with forty-seven open umbrellas.
It started on a rainy afternoon when Eli came home soaked from head to toe. I opened the front door with a dish towel over one shoulder, already tired from a long day and annoyed because the pharmacy had called again about a prescription still listed under my late husband’s name.
Then I saw my boy standing on the porch.
Rain dripped from his hair. His shirt clung to his chest. His lips were trembling from the cold.
“Eli,” I said, pulling him inside. “Where’s your umbrella?”
He looked up at me, and my stomach tightened.
Please, I thought. Not the blue one. Continue Reading ⬇️
