Dreams are important too.”
I laughed awkwardly.
“I don’t really have dreams.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“Well…” I hesitated. “Maybe someday I’d manage the diner.”
She looked deeply unimpressed.
“Aspiring to own greasy booths and burnt coffee. Magnificent ambition.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Hm.” She sipped tea. “Still better than having none.”
That winter, she knitted me the ugliest green socks I had ever seen in my life.
“I made these,” she announced proudly.
“They look radioactive.”
“They’ll keep your feet warm.”
And somehow, they did.
At the diner, Joe noticed I
