Phone Call

I was making potato salad for the picnic, hurriedly slicing the potatoes into quarters, when the phone rang.

My aunt from California was on the other end, and I could barely hear her voice when she told me my dad had died. I felt the hair on my arms rise as a sudden breeze stole through the house, followed by a loud clap of thunder. I wrote down funeral details and slammed down the phone. I had to run through the house to close the windows quickly, then remembered an open car window, too. I came back inside, drenched, and quickly changed into some cozy sweats.

I poured a glass of wine and got back to my potatoes, trying to remember what he looked like the last time I'd seen him.