“That’s a good idea.”
“I wrote it down. On the whiteboard. In case I forget.”
I looked over at the whiteboard on the wall by the closet. Dr. Patel’s idea. It had his medicine schedule on it, and Sophie’s phone number, and our address, and a list of things he wanted to remember. Fix the porch step. Call Tommy re: knee. Lee likes the blueberry jam from the farm stand — DON’T FORGET.
At the bottom, in fresh blue marker, he’d written:
Old ring → Sophie. Someday.
September twentieth was a Saturday.
We drove up to Loon Lake on Friday. Sophie drove, with me in the passenger seat and Mark in the back with the cooler, complaining the whole way that he could drive perfectly well, thank you very much, he’d only gotten lost one time.
“One time is enough, Dad,” Sophie said.
“One time is a fluke.”
