It had been a week and Oona was still in a cocoon. No one really wanted to wake her unless we had to. She wasn’t eating, or she wasn’t eating much. She would take a sip from a straw if one of us gave it to her, and then she would settle back into the…
Chapter Twelve – Undone
As promised, Liam dropped me off at my car. I noticed it was getting dark and there was less lighting than I expected. Against my better judgment, but also not wanting to be annoyed by the parenting voices of my friends, I turned my phone back on but left it in my car. It was…
Chapter Eleven- The Great Compromise
I watched his name linger on my screen before it notified me of a voicemail. I wasn’t in the mood. I picked up my phone and rolled it over in my hand. Why couldn’t I relax? What was the big deal? Liam was nice, right? He had never proved himself otherwise. He wanted to go…
Chapter Ten – The Turning Point
Reluctantly I headed back home. I wasn’t in the mood for a spa visit any more. I wasn’t in the mood for anyone, really. Home, with its hollow walls and plastic faces, seemed the best place to go. I had a plan. I would go home, hole up in my room, and listen to the…
Chapter Nine- The Invisibles
I had successfully made it through another weekend without a slice and was feeling pretty good about it. I tried to forget the fact that I was moments away from it when Mitzi called me and distracted me, and I chose to overlook the fact that the only reason I hadn’t cut Sunday after the…
Chapter Seven – Cleaning House
There are two memories of my mom that stand out vividly in my mind, moments that I will never forget, moments that shaped the path of our relationship. The first was when I was nine years old. I came home from school upset. At that time our maid was Anna; she was younger and uninvolved,…
The Flip Side of Poverty
We see them - vagrants living on the streets, asking for handouts, and bumming rides. We judge them as runaways, addicts, alcoholics, or panhandlers. We rarely see little more than dirty clothes, mussed hair or the cardboard signs they carry. We might be bothered if we are stopped to hand them a crumpled up dollar…
The importance of being “weird”
I swore I wasn't gonna be one of those weird moms - the ones that didn't let their kids watch certain shows or confine them to the house or separate them from the world by their entertainment or lack of. But that was a resolution I made when I was childless, when I didn't understand…
Leslie A. Lamb 