away shortly before Rachel and I moved into the neighborhood.
Ezra still kept her coffee mug in the cabinet beside his own.
He never used it, but he never moved it either.
Most Sundays, I stayed for thirty minutes.
Some Sundays, I stayed for two hours.
We talked about the neighborhood, sports, old cars, motorcycles, business, family, and the increasing price of coffee. Sometimes Ezra told stories about his younger years. Other times, I complained about my shop or worried aloud about raising a daughter.
And sometimes we simply sat