It was getting dark. The October air was cool and smelled like burning leaves. Ellie held my hand and swung our grocery bag between us.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do you think the lady’s happy now?”
“I think so. She got her treasure back.”
Ellie was quiet for a few steps.
“I’m glad we gave it back,” she said.
“Me too.”
“Even though we could’ve bought a new roof.”
I stopped walking.
I looked down at her. Seven years old. In her glued-together pink sneakers. Holding a grocery bag with store-brand bread in it.
“How did you know we needed a new roof?”
She shrugged. “Gerald told me.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Then I had to wipe my eyes.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go home.”
We walked home with our groceries, and I thought that was the end of it.
But I was so, so wrong.
