Sunlight filled the nursery through a wide bay window.

Boxes stood against the wall, some practical and some extravagant.

Gavin had bought tiny shoes our daughter would not need for months and a cashmere sweater softer than anything I had owned.

“These are entirely impractical,” I told him.

He held up the shoes.

“I may have overdone it.”

“A little.”

He smiled and set them on the low shelf instead of arguing that a grandfather’s money made every purchase sensible.