November 2021

I’m sorting through Oscar’s preschool drawings and a pile of junk mail between stirring the pan on the stove and chopping the broccoli to put in next. Blackness has already settled outside, turning the tall picture windows into mirrors of our swirling silver ghosts. In between the recycling bin and the cutting board, I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket.

“Hi Missy! I just bought our tickets to come up for Christmas. I’ll send you the flight info in an email.” - Daddy

My breath catches on the stone that’s been sitting on the top of my chest since last March. It sinks down now, heavy and solid, pulling at the tears in the backs of my eyes. The calm man on the radio confirms that the Delta Wave has now spread throughout the United States. He says this one may be the most deadly of them all.

I look back down at the text. We hadn’t talked about Christmas.

I miss my Dad.

At first I could keep pace with the misinformation. Our common ground had been eroding since Dubbya and his inv…