Then one Sunday, when I was twenty-two, Ben knocked on the door.
He held a small velvet box in his palm.
My heart lifted so fast I felt dizzy.
He held a small velvet box in his palm.
“Can I talk to Rosie?” he asked me.
I blinked. “Rosie?”
“Yeah. Is she in the garden?”
I stepped aside without answering.
I watched from the kitchen window as he kneeled in front of my sister among the tomato vines.
I watched her hands fly to her mouth.
He kneeled in front of my sister
I watched her nod so hard her curls bounced.
