I found it in the shed beneath a tarp, dusty and rusting around the chain.

She was not yet medically ready to ride, but we cleaned it together.

She sat on a stool and handed me rags while I loosened the seat clamp.

“Remember when I wanted to paint it green?” she asked.

“You painted the tires instead.

We had green marks all over the driveway.”

“I thought the whole world should know I had a bicycle.”

I smiled.