Sunday after the game, we gathered in the backyard. The guys were all there, with their girlfriends and some with their wives.
Everyone pitched in, and we had some Heinies, shrimp, chicken, and French fries. Fat Rollie donated the beer, and his wife even baked me a birthday cake. We had a good time, eating and drinking. Even Fat Rollie wished me a Happy Birthday with a beer. (He doesn’t usually drink.)
At about 8:30 that night, Larry and Jeannie walked into the backyard. Larry walked over to the cooler to get a beer. Jeannie approached me, handed me a box and said, “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks, Jeannie,” I said.
“It’s not from me. It’s from Molly.”
“What? Are you sure,” I said, a little shocked.
Inside the box was a small bell jar filled with what looked to be sand. Taped to the jar was
