Circle

Preparations

16 Preparations What happens is it happens. It’s cheap to live here: steel frames, railroad, asphalt shingles, advice from other women. Their opinions beckon October after October, wrap like a blue shawl. Now they’re old enough to say, I know, honey, it happens to all of us. When he went out again and again, in search of more than me, my genetics told me to bake a bundt cake: his favorite, my currency. The act of setup— of calming a sweating mind, spoon next to meat knife, fish knife, oyster fork, grapefruit spoon—of preparation. I’ve always known the answers to my own questions—cumin, curry, mixed with spit, of what to say, the how to of control, the where were you, upon his return. But my tongue always hung in its dark cave, like cement. And I didn’t know how to break it. ...