Shelter phone numbers.
Once, during a brutal cold spell, I spent half my lunch break calling shelters until I found an available bed.
Larry always thanked me.
But it had never occurred to me that during those two years, he had also learned something about me.
He had learned exactly how to ask me for help.
Near the bottom of the page, he had written:
“Before you decide what kind of jerk I was, go back to the courthouse where we got married. Ask for Margaret. Tell her you’re my wife.”
For a few minutes, I seriously considered throwing the letter away.
Instead, an hour later, I was standing inside the courthouse lobby.
Couples filled the plastic chairs.
A woman in a white jumpsuit adjusted her lipstick while her fiancé held a bouquet.
