Sarah Kessler had her first real encounter with Rick Wolfson when he hit her leg with his gym bag at the West Side Nursery School. She had noticed him before of course, not because he was particularly handsome but because he had dark eyes and reckless hair and the sweaty intensity of an unsatisfied appetite. That Rick was married to a small-busted and well-assembled Wall Street banker who seemed unworthy of her husband’s bohemian charm only increased his value. As Sarah knew from experience, it was easier to fantasize about unhappy men.
Let’s dip into a couple editor favorites from Father’s Days past. In Hungry to Eat from 2012, David Harris Ebenbach writes of a father figuring out on the fly how to help a grown son with a big hurt that a Band-Aid …
She had changed. Her darling girl carried a lift in her shoulders, a stance she’d mastered overseas, without Margaret’s reminders. It was a posture a mother wished for in a daughter, yet hoped it could be achieved by her influence. Now, when they spoke, Bonnie seemed to hold her mother’s gaze as if challenging Margaret to be the first to look away.
Twilight. The echo of coyotes off the mountains beyond the lake drifts through the cold August air. The sound makes the mile and a half from here to the other side of the water seem like a stone’s throw. I sleep comfortably now, but years ago when John first brought me here, the baying made me shiver. I tried to put it out of my mind, tossing and turning in my sleeping bag, feeling vulnerable with the yelps and howls and moonlight streaming in.
They arrive ten minutes early, which Michelle regrets. She suggests a walk. He runs ahead. She feels as she always does, like a ball of string is unwinding before her, quickly, and she stands affectless for a moment watching. Finally she follows the string forward, believing that if she keeps tugging, the string will remain taut and the tension will save him.