Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Epilogue
- A Note from the Author
- Discussion Questions
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Acclaim for David Rawlings
- Also by David Rawlings
Another flash of gold in the downlight. Kelly placed an over-rinsed plate into the dishwasher. “That’s fine. I’ve got a few ideas I’d like to try. So is everyone coming?”
“Of course everyone’s coming. Apart from a celebration for Crossroads Counseling, Anna suggested I should focus on something fun after losing Gramps.”
And there was the other name. His work-wife.
Five
Daniel strolled away from Crossroads Counseling, his final favor for Gramps bouncing along in his shirt pocket. A last chance to impress his hero.
Monique had shaken her head at Daniel’s disbelief. Google was clear—only one place in the city would process his film: Simon’s Film Lab. And it was just around the corner from work. Who didn’t believe Google?
Daniel didn’t. Who opened a new shop for something nobody needed anymore?
Hands thrust in his pockets, Daniel strolled along with a whistle on his lips and a spring of anticipation in his step. He would have the privilege of seeing these unique memories first, fresh out of the camera and even before Gramps. He hoped the quality of the photos would be better than the ones in his album.
Daniel’s mission helped wash away the residue from Kelly’s continued distrust. He’d all but given up convincing her that, despite all her suspicions, he’d never once violated his marriage vows. And there had been opportunities. Plenty of opportunities.
Daniel turned the corner onto Northbound Avenue, a boulevard of leafy green that hit the middle ground of suburbia—upmarket enough to appeal to those from the higher-income brackets but welcoming enough to those who would settle for a rung on the bottom of the ladder—battling house payments and bills as much as each other.
The group of three shops was the barometer of a sputtering economy. In front of the shop on the left swung the familiar red-and-yellow paper lanterns of Ming’s Court Chinese Restaurant. Daniel often bought Mr. Ming’s steamed dim sims to support him before he succumbed to the economic sledgehammer of franchised food.
The shop on the right was one Daniel had neither the need nor desire to frequent. Handwritten posters filled the window: “Thursday is half-price dryer day!!” “Your dirty laundry is our forte!!” A hand-painted cardboard sign: “Coming clean! Laundromat now open!!!” What was it with exclamation points and small businesses? Beyond the paper-plastered glass, a floor-to-ceiling bank of silver washing machines ran the depth of the shop like a computer room from the 1970s.