I read the plaque on the coffee shop counter. What couldn't be missed was the glass shelf of muffins next to the cash register, with loaves of bread and pastries all freshly baked. My spouse, Wendy, and I looked at the sign and dressed up in the blouses she wore every day for her mother, Sherry. We could have turned around and walked out when one of our friends suggested we should. Instead, we took a table near the window. One seat faced the counter, one displayed handmade cards and crafts in coffee jars, and the other offered a view of the forest.
None of us agreed with religious or secondary fundamentalism. However, we were desperate to get some rest in my mother-in-law's cramped and dark house. She was confused a day early on with a letter stating that her driver's license had been suspended. Wendy sorted through the bills and topped up the overflowing bank account. Soon we will be going to the grocery store…