I LOOK AT THE PHONE. The icons. 'Call ended'. Gratitude fills me. More than that. It bursts from me. Lifts my feet off the ground and makes my fist punch the air.
The joy is familiar. The excitement. The rush.
Emotions I tangled with earlier in our marriage. Before the wedding. While we were dating. I remember sitting at high standing tables with a younger Harriet. Fingers brushing as we both reached for a basket of chicken wings. Shy smiles. Napkins that tenderly cleaned sauce from hungry cheeks and lips.
I remember picking up the phone. Every thump of my fingers on the screen felt like home. I could recite her number in my sleep. I could pick her voice out of a crowd. She was the reason I got up in the morning. The reason I sang on my way to work.
