I would run my fingers over the spines and pick out whatever I thought looked interesting. Even if the story was boring, I enjoyed sitting on his lap ...s he flipped the pages. The vibrations in his chest were always comforting and I would draw imaginary shapes on the arm of the black upholstery. He didn’t look at me. He just continued to paint and gently blow on the little plastic pieces.“I wanna ask you about mom,” I said.“What about her?” He picked up another piece and stuck the paintbrush in. He watched them with sad eyes as they dashed to the garage.Marty drove so that Mary could eat. He munched on a muesli bar too, between sips of sweet coffee. He could feel the ring in his pocket and got a weird sensation that it was happy to be with him even if not on his finger.He wasn’t sure what Mary was going to do. He glanced at her when she opened the packet of her third Muesli Bar and shoved it into her mouth. She wasn’t eating for enjoyment. He decided that she knew what was required.He. More

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