The first thing I must tell you is that all three sisters are born on the same day in December. Every other winter, without fail, out they come, like a foot stamped three times in the dark.
Thinking about him now, I realize Juho spent most of his time trying to tell me something. Our communication tended to fail us in important ways. It was mainly my fault. We were forever running into these little word-to-word problems.
When Marg lived in the house, there was a whole other house in the basement where her grandparents lived in the summer. They were from Ireland, the McCabes. They were royalty, Marg thought. That’s how she felt about them.
Not an uncommon winter tale. It goes different ways but always starts the same: Two men, friends since childhood, still young and strong, lose their way in a snowstorm that they believed they could out-ski. Night falls; they don’t return to...
The summer I got engaged, I flew from San Francisco to London to see my mother. I had to remind myself during the flight that the engagement’s being a big deal didn’t make the trip a big deal, and that I should treat it like any other visit...
