of the funeral, a sea of blue meant he was gone
I couldn’t look at them anymore.
Ray kept coming by. Every Sunday, for a while. He’d bring a casserole his wife made or a pizza, and he’d ask if Caleb wanted to go throw the ball around. The other guys called too. Invitations to barbecues. The department softball game. The holiday party. Somebody offered to take Caleb to a baseball game.
I said no to everything.
“He’s not ready.”
“We’ve got plans that day.”
“Maybe next time.”
And then
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