Sublime

toward the provisions. Gus’s dimple deepened. His hand skimmed

Other people’s parents are often a delight.

“Miss Bowman is the one I want.” “She could never fit into the mold of a Marsden wife.” “Then the mold will have to be broken.”

I run barefoot down the carpeted hallway, taking the biggest strides I can muster while desperately trying to control the laughter bubbling in my chest. It’s freeing. It’s a relief. And before we hit the door, my fingers loosen around the sparkly heels in my hand. I drop them like Cinderella and step out into a dull November afternoon, with my palm

grok