And while I was peeling the carrots, I realized something important.”

“What was it you realized, Mother?”

“Your father’s old roll-top oak desk in the study,” she said, leaning in with a warm, breathy smile.

“It’s sat locked up and unused since he died.

I want you to have it.

It’s yours now.”

I straightened the second brass button on my dress jacket.

“Father bought that desk at an estate auction in Richmond twenty-two years ago.”