Behind the Venue, My Husband Handed Me a Scrapbook Pulled From the Dumpster

the extras,” Emma said. “We could make new ones. Better ones. While the cookies bake.”

Barbara blinked. “Cookies?”

“The ones in the oven,” Emma said. “I started them this morning. I thought if you came, maybe we could finish them together.”

What happened next did not happen all at once, and I do not want to describe it as though it did, because that would continue reading …