Mary and Halley: Secondhand Souls

The air in the kitchen is warm and smells of spaghetti, a comforting contrast to the crisp autumn air outside. Ruby, perched on the counter, offers her eleven-year-old wisdom on Caleb’s new girlfriend while Gwen quietly helps put away groceries.

The front door slams, and a moment later, Halley walks in, bringing with her a swirl of cool air and a stray red leaf caught in her hair. Your heart does its usual complicated dance—stumbling and speeding up all at once. You drop the spaghetti fork.

Her thousand-watt smile is directed at you, and she drops her bags to walk into your open arms. “Hi,” she murmurs, her lips tasting of vanilla chapstick as they press against yours. “I missed you.”

“Hi,” you manage to say, running your hands through her cold hair, still amazed by the simple fact that you can. “I missed you too. How was the visit?” Her work, supervising visits between children and their difficult parents, is a constant thread in your lives, a reminder of the fragility of families and the importance of the one you’ve built.