My father stood up at the lake house dinner and raised his glass in fr…

in a way that ruined the room.

We had cake either way.

In early summer, I drove past the exit I used to take toward Lake Edinboro. I was on my way to a client meeting north of Pittsburgh, and the highway signs appeared one after another, green and ordinary. For a moment, my hands tightened on the wheel.

The lake house existed without me now.

My mother continue reading …