When was there a time when Thankful did not have to concern herself with diapers? Now as Thankful scrubbed shit far from her family, she wondered why she had traveled a great distance only to immerse her hands in dirty laundry water again. Her tantrum may have ruined a friendship with Mrs. Markham, who had been a kinder mother to her in a few months than Margaret had been in her entire lifetime. Either way—in Englewood or Arizona—she was pushing other folks’ strollers.
“Say! Anyone at home?” William called as he came around the back gate. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you, Thankful.”
Thankful’s dress and her stylish apron hung sodden and dirty. “I live here don’t I? What do you want?”
“Um, well . . . are you all right?” William asked.
“I’m perfectly fine, William. You must be wrecked after the show you put on for the…
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Tenafly Road 