Chapter 6 — The Candle and the Tag

What she pulled out was a thin drugstore gift bag, the kind you grab at a register at the last second, with a crooked red bow stuck to the handle.

“This is for you, sweetheart,” Gene said, and there was something almost triumphant under the sweetness.

“I didn’t want you to feel totally left out today.”

Holly took the bag with both hands, because she is a polite child, because we raised her to be careful and gracious with adults, and she drew out the thin white tissue paper slowly, the way you’d unwrap something you wanted to make last.

At the bottom of the bag was a four-dollar vanilla candle.