My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

The red and yellow threads formed a tight floral pattern along the edges.

It was the same napkin she used to cover the fresh pies she baked on Sunday mornings.

“I remember her bringing cherry pies to the office,” Arthur said.

“She always said you couldn’t negotiate a contract on an empty stomach,” I said.

Arthur smiled and crossed his arms.

“She was right about that,” Arthur said.

“And she was right to trust you.”

I carried the embroidered napkin into the dining room.