Issue 147, Summer 1998
On Christmas day, Travis calls from the rig. Miranda hears the phone ring and runs in the house to answer it. glad for an excuse to leave the parry in the yard. All afternoon. she has been leaning back against the wire fence that separates Travis’s mother’s house from theirs. a paper plate balanced on her knees, writing a letter to Lee Vickery in her head. Dear Lee. I have these dreams. Do you think about me? The warden steals your letters—I never get them.
For three years. as long as she and Travis have been married, he has spent the winter working offshore. and she has gone alone to his mother’s Christmas crawfisb boil. She knows Travis’s mother feels sorry for her. Once, she overheard his mother telling him, “Not a single person loves that girl but us.” Everyone thinks Miranda is an orphan. In Travis’s family, there are one hundred and two people, not including Miranda.
They crowd the backyard. grandmothers sitting in lawn chairs, teenagers with radios on beach towels, children pl…