From the Sky - Part V

It was a Sunday morning when he found the flaw. We used to love our lazy, delicious Sunday mornings back before the boys were born. We would lie in bed until noon threatened, wrapped in each other's arms, celebrating intimate mini-honeymoons. I'm reasonably sure the twins were conceived on the morning in question, because the next month or so I remember as being quite hectic. School was about to start and I had a lot of planning to do; it was my first year teaching music in Walnutwood Elementary. Joe had a series of weekend conferences in Phoenix. We lost a few of our precious Sundays in all of that. Anyway, as I recall I was lying on top of him, propped up on my forearms and teasing him about something when he squinted and frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Where'd you get that scar?"

And so I told him about Uncle Gio and the tree, and that led to the rest of it. I've done the same with you, I suppose. So now that I've set the plate, I'll tell you the story I told Joe, the one I've heard in bits and pieces from my father and my aunts. But I won't tell it Gospel-style …the tale according to Sal, the tale according to Rae, and so on. I'll mash it all together, like I did for my husband. And there is more to the story than I knew when I told it to Joe, things I've learned only recently, some of it very recently indeed. So sit back while our children play and let me raise the curtain at last…

Honeymoon Sundays...

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