up weeds and raking and readying the dirt for
seeding。
It was on this last day that Chet asked； “Your family's not moving； are you？”
“Moving？ Why do you say that？”
“Oh； my daughter brought up the possibility at the dinner table last night。 She thought that
maybe you're fixing up the house because you're getting
ready to sell it。”
Even though Chet and I had talked about a lot of things while we were working； I probably
wouldn't have told him about Mr。 Finnegan or Uncle
David or why the yard was such a mess if he hadn't asked me about moving。 But since he
had； well； I wound up telling him everything。 And it felt
good to talk about it。 Especially about Uncle David。 It felt like blowing a dandelion into the
wind and watching all the little seeds float off； up and
away。 I was proud of my parents； and looking around the front yard； I was proud of me； too。
Just wait until I got my hands on the backyard！ Then
maybe I'd even paint the house。 I could