“And I made purple snowflakes.”
“Sometimes they still sound little to me, and sometimes I hear them as older. The age they’d be now.” Gideon remembered with a smile the slithering candy canes and his sister’s purple snowflakes. “I don’t know how Heaven works. Maybe they can be whichever they wish to be.”
“Or however you wish.”
“Mmm.” Gideon thought about that. “Anyway, butch, and blond, and curly hair…” He held the drawing up to the spouse he’d eventually found. “Sometimes, maybe we don’t realize what we already know.”
“And that’s your grandmother.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re holding…?”
“I don’t know.” Gideon knew. “Shoes, maybe. You know how I like shoes.”
Even as a little boy, Gideon had wanted to be a father.
“Shoes, huh?” Rudy knew it wasn’t shoes in Gideon’s arms, too. The two other
