So it was cancer. And so he was screwed, royally screwed. He was screwed all the more because he knew how screwed he was. He had to carry the shame of knowing, as much as he wanted to deny it, that this had been his first thought when he found out… Read full post »

Astrid sat in the bed propped against pillows. A plastic bag suspended from a shiny hook dripped poison into her arm. She read Dave Barry and chuckled to herself.

Frank sat in a metal chair next to the heavy curtain. He'd volunteered to read to her, but she'd declined. "I may be… Read full post »

Week before Christmas. He was sitting in a conference room at Midwest Chemical, making small talk with Mike Augsberger, when through the door tumbled the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Oh, fuck. I am married. His first thought. 

"I am soo sorry I'm late. Maggie Carrel," she said, an… Read full post »

Pull up a booth, and let’s tell each other

tales of the road: the places we’ve stopped

and the faces we’ve seen and the people

we’ve lost along the way. I want to hear

what cracked your windshield and what

the radio played when… Read full post »

The separation--the plan--had been a long time coming. After years of fighting and therapy and apologizing and, finally, silence, their marriage was about to die of exhaustion. Frank was exhausted, Astrid was--

He didn't know what Astrid was. He wasn't sure he recognized her anymore. She didn't seem… Read full post »

The trouble didn't begin with the boy/friend. But the boy/friend didn't help.

Frank had spent the day  in Chicago. New project for Science and Industry. He hung out in the corners and watched kids interact with the exhibits. Blow into the room. Push, pull, whack, move along. Read? Not so much.… Read full post »

If Astrid had known about the cancer, would she have insisted on seeing the boy/friend? Would she have told Frank she didn't love him anymore?

She didn't tell him that, exactly. "I'll always love you, Frank," was what she said. The "but" hovered in the air like a pregnant hummingbird.

"But… Read full post »

 It begins with screaming.

The thing about love, the thing about love, the thing about love Frank knew so well was that love was commitment. Love was not some bright infatuation, some bauble, some no-account feeling. Love was something deeper. For better or worse meant that sometimes it would be worse. When your husband disapp… Read full post »

He was sitting in the kitchen writing in his journal when Astrid appeared in the doorway. "It's starting," she said. "My hair is coming out."

She pinched her fingers through her hair and offered him the results. Little tufts of blonde. She flicked her fingers and scattered the strands into the a… Read full post »

Late spring, summer before cancer. Frank drove Max and his pal Jason to Cincinnati for their first rock show. Less Than Jake at Bogart's. A two-hour drive for ska-punk.

Ska-punk. Crimeny. This stuff was all the rage. A whole new generation wanted to be The Specials.

The music was supposed to sta… Read full post »

He gave her cancer. He gave her cancer.

Not what she said. She said her relationship gave her cancer. Her relationship with him. Gave her cancer.

It was a slit of an accusation. A razor slice that just kept bleeding. A worm burrowing up from the base of his skull. A nasty,… Read full post »

"I think you're a great candidate for a sentinel node biopsy," said Dr. Kartes.

They sat in the small, dark office. On the sofa, not touching. She still wouldn't take his hand.

Dr. Kartes wore snakeskin boots under his blue scrubs. He sat on the edge of his desk and explained… Read full post »

The summer before cancer--the summer 0f the boy(friend), the summer before Max started high school, the summer when all the decisions about blowing apart their marriage were made--they drove to Martha's Vineyard. Astrid had insisted she wasn't going, right up until the week of the trip. For a month,… Read full post »

1. Frank (6) learns that good boys have hearts full of evil.

"Now you're captured!" said Frankie. "Badman Brucie McGowan. Let's just see how bad you look in handcuffs."

Frank Carey of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police climbed down from his Wonder Horse, being careful to not catch his pants in… Read full post »

What's the protocol for telling people your spouse has cancer? How do you tell your son, your friends, your co-workers? How do you tell your mother? How do you tell her mother?

"I can't talk to her," Astrid said. "Will you call her, please?"

Astrid had spoken to her mother once… Read full post »

Astrid did not smoke. Astrid did not drink. Astrid was not overweight. Astrid did not live a sedentary lifestyle; her whole life, aside from shopping, was working out. Astrid had no history of breast cancer or other female cancers in her family. Astrid did not have dense breast tissue. Astrid did… Read full post »

Hoses snaked through the yard. The grass cold and wet on his bare feet. Dad sprawled on the porch surrounded by the rubber men. 

And then someone pushed Frankie across the street into Mrs. Tann's house. Handed him a mug of cocoa. It felt warm in his hands, but he couldn't… Read full post »

Second Musical Interlude: 

"Nights In White Satin." When he appropriated Ellen's flute and taught himself to play--how nervous he was on stage with his guitar slung over his back and the metal pressed against his lips.

"Teenage Spaceship." Sitting in study hall with Steve Tilson reading Ray… Read full post »

"You have Stage I breast cancer," said Dr. Han. "The tumor was tiny, and your lymph nodes were negative. That's the good news."

"So it's gone? That's it?" Astrid asked.

"We can't go that far," Dr. Kartes said. "All we can tell you for a fact is that the margins were… Read full post »

Christmas. Cold and rainy. Glenda and Joe drove in from Effingham and stayed at the Hampton Inn. God forbid they should stay at Frank's and Astrid's. Glenda was probably afraid she'd catch cancer.

Astrid's relationship with her mom careened from swooning to nonexistent. Glenda oozed drama, and the dr… Read full post »

He started writing again as he'd left off the last time. Awkwardly. Clumsily. Timidly.

But this time, he didn't stop.

This was before the cancer, years before. He did this every day: up at five, before Astrid and Max. Four cups of coffee in the machine. A bowl of granola. Five… Read full post »

Astrid hadn't always hated him.

They met at the Beta house in the fall of his junior year. Typical Friday night. Stoned, drinking beer. He and Red Chapman sitting in their room playing guitars. The girls in their blues jeans. The guys from the house hitting on the girls in their… Read full post »

"Mom's here again," said Astrid. "She's staying with Erica."

Of course she was. Frank wasn't sure whether he felt angry or relieved. Glenda radiated an odd, heavy energy, and she was no fun to have around the house. But she'd never really been around for Astrid. When Max was born, Glenda… Read full post »

I would have a permanent tattoo in

tattoo blue, one that sun and soap

could not fade nor the passing of years

the sentiment diminish; a dark bird

on my wrist or spider on my ankle,

or a tiny heart-shaped box to remind me… Read full post »