A Spool of Blue Thread

by Anne Tyler

Carla was pleasant but distracted, as if she were wondering whether she’d left a burner on at home.

The preacher, if that was the term for him, was a bike messenger with a license from the Universal Life Church.

Why was he always so eager to exchange his family for someone else’s?

I went to the linen closet where Mom always kept her sewing box, and I opened the door, and before I could even reach for the box this spool of bright-blue thread rolled out from the rear of the shelf. I just cupped my hand beneath the shelf and this spool of thread dropped into it.”

“I almost imagined that she was handing it to me. Like some kind of, like, secret sign. Stupid, right?” Nora said, “No.” “I thought, ‘It’s like she’s telling me she forgives me,’ ” Denny said.

“Don’t forget to keep in touch,” she told him. “Oh, sure. I’d never just disappear; they need me around for the drama.”