I’m gonna tell a lie, Lisa says. I saw your dad at Gino’s Pizza. On hump day. Wait, was he with Rachel? I ask.

Alone at home after school, David drops a treat the size and shape of a pencil eraser on the shaggy rug, then calls his best friend, Bear. A black nose sniffs circles around the bison pellet. Nostrils shiver like fish gills. David wiggles his toes and clutches the couch cushion. He holds himself back from…

As many of you must know by now, Antarctic poetry, wireless bras, the history of table tennis, online dating for older adults, bluegill fishing, and my collection of seventeenth century cookbooks are among my varied interests. Last weekend, while I sat in my Subaru gnawing Casey’s chips and waiting on my daughter to exit the…

The house wept like a Madonna statue whenever it rained, steady streams in the corners of the walls, the paint bubbling and blistering. The trees wept pears, when it rained and when it didn’t, grass-green fists with gnarled stems and woody warts, blossom-end rot and speckled spores. They gathered all the pears, the rotten ones…

It was the band’s first show, at a house party up in the hills about a twenty-minute drive away from the city. It was a three-bedroom house being rented out by seven college kids. They were hosting the party and had asked the band to play. They’d talked to the bass player via text message,…

Alice Beck’s girlfriend had started to forget things. Where she went and what she did. Who she called and what they said. “What do you mean you don’t remember?” Alice Beck would ask after she came home from work. Alice Beck would eat dinner and pepper her girlfriend with questions as if she were preparing…

I heard it was for the Royes next door, for their daughter’s wedding, possibly a nice little present from the girl’s brother who worked abroad, some construction job in Dubai, or loading trucks in Manila, that brown packet the slightly forgetful postman hurled across their fence gate though it was properly locked, and their puppy…

My uncle, Mario, was two people. During the day, he was Mario. Undisputed king of the dad joke. A middle-aged weirdo of minor repute. Think Tony Danza if Tony Danza were brown as fuck, installed drywall, and took minutes at the local Sasquatch sighting club. But at night, he was Yelton John, the leader of…

They know what’s coming when their dad slams the front door. Their eyes squint, they scatter. Their dad finds them, lines them up, and spanks them by the most hysterical to the most stoic. The loudest ones cry, “We didn’t do anything.” And he says the same thing, “This is for general principles.” Their dad…

At least, that’s what she tells Mom and me three weeks after Dad leaves on a shiny September Sunday, nicking the corner of our mailbox as he peels out of the drive, exhaust fumes roaring through the ancient muffler like rocket fuel in his wake. My sister tells us he’s gone back to his home…

When Jackie put the cigarette between her lips, a decade disappeared. “Been a while,” Tara said. Jackie pulled her knees to her chest and leaned into the give of her plastic chair. “Feels like we’re back in high school.” “If we were back in high school, we’d be smoking bots behind Gabe Beresford’s garage.” Jackie…

Lisa had been surprised at how hard fawns could suckle at a bottle. Their needy yanks moved their necks like swans. She loved watching the look on their faces as the glugs of warm formula went down their throats, stray drops beading on their muzzles. This first-thing-in-the-morning task at the wildlife rescue Lisa had been…