mom shouldn’t have done that.”
Maisie thought for a moment.
“My dad used to say doing something bad doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it.”
I looked at her.
Gavin had said that about a completely different situation involving a broken kitchen lamp, but I decided not to ruin the moment.
Parker smiled.
“Your dad sounds pretty cool.”
“He was.”
That night, Maisie placed the football on the coffee table beneath Gavin’s framed photograph.
Then she draped his old jersey across the chair where he used to sit.
For a long time, she stared at both.
“Do you think Dad saw today?”
There was no easy answer to that question.
I sat beside her.
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
“I hope he did.”
“So do I.”
