Meet the (Turkish) Parents

Ishut the car door behind me, and felt like I had one foot dangling off the edge of a cliff.

“I can’t. You have to cancel! Tell them I’m sick. Maybe I am sick. We don’t know. We can’t take that kind of risk, can we?”

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

I wrapped my arms around the flowers we had just purchased at the little florist around the corner. It was a bushel of stems and plants that took a bearhug to carry, the traditional arrangement for the occasion.

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