Chapter 17 - The Little Girl at the Door
Three years after the reunion, my niece arrived alone one afternoon.
She was fourteen now.
She looked upset.
“Mom knows I'm here.”
“Good opening sentence.”
She almost smiled.
We sat on the porch.
“What happened?”
“A girl at school keeps using my stuff without asking.”
I waited.
“She says I'm selfish when I tell her no.”
I looked toward the lake.
History had a sense of humor.
“What do you think?”
“I think she's my friend.”
“That wasn't my question.”
My niece frowned.
“I think I don't like it.”
“Then say no.”
“What if she gets mad?”
“She might.”
“What if she stops being my friend?”
“Then you'll learn something important.”
She stared at me.
“Mom said you'd say that.”
“Your mother is getting annoyingly wise.”
My niece smiled.
Before leaving, she asked:
“Is this why Mom always asks before touching anything here?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
I smiled.
May you like
“Ask her.”
Some stories belong to the people who learned from them.
