For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke
Along the side of the hull, she had written the words Sea Star in neat block letters.
“That’s a very detailed boat,” I said.
Emma twirled a loose red ribbon on her sweater sleeve.
“Dad goes there on Saturdays,” Emma whispered.
“When I am staying here with you and Grandma.”
“Does he rent this boat?” I asked.
“He says it is his floating office,” Emma whispered.
“But he just drinks wine on the back deck with Clara.”
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