“The bear one,” she said.

I got two pages in before she corrected me.

“He doesn’t say it like that.

He says it like this.”

So I read it the way she told me, and she put her hand flat on the page to keep me from turning it too soon.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger,” Beverly said from the doorway.

“She’s got a good ear for a story,” I said.

Beverly stood up and smoothed the front of her sweater with both hands, one side, then the other.