I went to Colorado for Thanksgiving and stayed at my friends’ temporary residence. The home before home, the launch pad for their new lives in the West.
Genevieve showed me the house where she grew up, in Denver, and then we drove up into the foothills to see where she spent her adolescence. The walk from the bus stop to her front door took an hour each way and she dreaded it. Genevieve would dial her mother collect from a payphone at the bottom of the hill, and when the automated voice instructed, “State your name,” she would chirp, “Pick me up!”