never heard Dad agree so easily to criticism.
Then Luis said, “Send some.”
Dad smiled.
“I will.”
They began calling every Sunday.
Sometimes for ten minutes.
Sometimes for two hours.
Luis had become a commercial photographer.
He had married, divorced, and remained close friends with his former wife.
He had no children.
He had spent twenty years photographing architecture and craftspeople across the Southwest.
When he heard about the community-room idea, he became interested.
“Don’t make it sentimental,” he warned.
Dad sounded offended.
“It won’t be.”
“You are turning Granddad’s
