junethompson

“Thank you Richard,” she smiled cheerfully, exiting the car; a hand reaching for Tommy’s who’d been sandwiched between them. “4:30?” A nod in agreement and they were on their way up the footpath.

Lovely home. Nice neighborhood too. She’d brought butter cookies with her, but found herself wondering if that were enough.

She went over the childrens’ names while climbing the porch steps, the Christmas wreath still fresh and green. “Will, Edith, Brian, Patrick…only four, ” she sighed silently.

Angela cleared her throat, gave her son a last quick onceover, and knocked on the door.