“A toast.” Jenn passed out plastic champagne flutes filled with sparkling cider from the folding table near the garage. “To being welcomed to the fold.” She raised her glass.
“And to family,” Addison said.
“To love,” added Lee.
“And hope.” Stone kissed Edison’s cheek.
“To teachers.” Edison kissed him back.
THE END
ABOUT DAVID CONNOR
David has always wanted to be a daytime drama writer. His books are like soap operas in print, filled with intrigue, romance, comedy, and drama. His imagination refuses to shut off even when he sleeps. Many of David’s plots and ideas come from nightly dreams and nightmares. He lives in upstate New York with a kitty cat named Molly and the spirits of several doggies and kitties who have passed on. David enjoys writing (of course), puttering in the garden,
