Rooted/Uprooted

My husband and I made a pact when we got married. We’d live in Houston for five years; then, we’d move. Somewhere beautiful with good weather that we could take for granted. Somewhere with hikeable spaces, mountains perhaps. Somewhere that didn’t morph into a lethal body of water every time it rained for days on end. Once, my car almost drowned in that rain with me in it. I spent the night outside a gas station, shaking and crying, waiting for the flood to subside.

Like all married couples, we made lots of promises early on. We wouldn’t go to bed mad. (We did.) We’d embrace each other every day. (We…