CHAPTER 37Jessie
The milk in the bottom of Jessie’s mug was lukewarm now, the window of the wood stove dark. Jessie put the mug down and pulled the throw blanket up to her chest, snaking her arms beneath it.
“I did the right thing,” she said aloud, as if to close the floodgates on the memories that washed over her.
Jessie was not religious, nor New Agey. Science was her religion, and if there were things that science could not explain, still this did not shake her faith. There would always be new frontiers, new revolutions of understanding. Her friends, even her colleagues, sometimes spoke of the universe as a kind of God, as in, “The universe offered me this opportunity, so I had to take it.” She did not begrudge them this; we all make sense of our lives the best we can. But in her hea
