Seven
Sedona
Palmer’s favorite thing to do at the park is play in the sandbox. As I sit on the bench watching her, my anxiety increases my heart rate tenfold. Any second, her father is going to show up. Palmer’s always curious about anyone new, and I know she’s going to ask questions.
She scoops sand into the fish mold and dumps it over, all of the loose sand spilling out before the mold presses into the sand. Then she picks up the fish and looks at it quizzically, and her shoulders slump.
She’s so amazing. So sweet and open to anyone she meets. It’s that aspect of her little personality that kept me up late last night. She’ll open her arms wide for Jamison. How will he react?
“Hey,” he announces himself before coming into my peripheral vision.
I inhale and close my eyes for a second
