I was proud of that work.

I also had mornings when pride did not make getting out of bed easier.

Neither feeling was a failure of the other.

Ruth returned to take me to the next session.

She stopped in the kitchen, took a scone, and checked whether I was ready before picking up the materials we still needed.

“Almost,” I said.

On the porch, I looked beneath the bench.

Noah’s two blue sneakers sat together now.