For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke

I should have shown her the registry page and the insurance release.

But I wanted to get Emma safely into our car first.

I put the Buick in gear and drove us toward Elm Street.

“I packed the blueberry muffin mix,” Eleanor said from the passenger seat.

“And a new set of watercolor paints.

Emma said she wanted to paint the big oak tree in the park tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice,” I said.

“You’re very quiet today,” Eleanor said.