“We can take my car," he says, walking toward the Subaru in the driveway. I climb into the passenger seat and click my seatbelt while he starts the ...ngine. “What do you want to eat?” he asks, looking over to me. I shrug my shoulder. “Whatever. I’m not picky.” A small smile touches his lips, but his eyes are still full of pain. As we drive down the main road, I try for polite conversation. “Work was so long today,” I practically groan in a disapproving tone, keeping my eyes on the road. . I used to like that when I was a little girl." What kind did you have?" Oh, I don't eat too much cereal. Remember the peaches you had at my house?" Uh huh." Well, I cut up the rest of them and shared them with Jack. And we each had a banana."She looked at my father. "Daddy John, can I have peaches for breakfast?" Sure, Sweetie. Talk to Mama Wanda about that. She's in charge of the food in our house."A woman came into the room carrying a box. She was dressed in a suit — a skirt with a matching. More

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