your mommy?”
Ari looked down.
“I don’t know enough.”
That sentence broke my heart.
I leaned forward.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at me.
“Your mommy couldn’t bake blueberry muffins,” I said.
Ari looked surprised.
“But Grandma says she could.”
I laughed softly.
“Grandma is remembering the second batch.”
Mom smiled through tears.
“The first batch was terrible.”
“She forgot the sugar,” I added. “Then she insisted nobody would notice.”
Dad chuckled.
“Your father ate three anyway.”
“They tasted like warm bread,” I admitted.
Everyone laughed.
Even Ari.
One story led
