Joyce read it out loud. Then she turned and looked at me.
“Did he do that because of you?” she asked.
I couldn’t answer. I just sat there in the passenger seat, looking at that sign, while the cars honked behind us.
Chapter Twelve: The Extras
It’s been almost a year now.
My heart is strong. The surgeon says I’ll probably outlive him. My little green house in Ballard is still mine. The cherry tree bloomed in April, so pink and full it looked like a cloud had landed in the backyard.
I run the Children’s Table program for Chen Health. That’s what we named it. I picked the name. I work three days a week, mostly from my kitchen table, and one day a week I visit the hospitals. We fed fifty-three thousand children this year. Every single one of them got a meal ticket at the front desk, with no forms, no questions, and no one making them feel small.
