“There it is.

My mother used to say a good laugh clears the cobwebs out of the attic.”

“Your mother thought everything could be cured with vegetable broth and a brisk walk,” Walt said, without opening his eyes.

“And it worked,” June said, looking over at me with kind gray eyes.

“We live out in Oregon now, near the coast, where the rainy afternoons give you plenty of time to sit on the porch and talk things through.”

“Or watch the lawn grow,” Walt said.