Lucy sat next to him.
Still wearing the red dress.
She immediately reached for his sandwich.
Noah pulled it away.
“Lucy. This is mine.”
She reached again.
He sighed with the exhaustion of a seventy-year-old man dealing with an unreasonable coworker.
Then he tore off a little piece and handed it to her.
I raised an eyebrow.
Noah noticed.
He immediately took an enormous bite from his own sandwich.
“I’m eating too, Mom.”
His words came out muffled because his mouth was full.
“Good.”
Lucy squeezed the piece of sandwich in one hand.
A streak of jelly landed right across the front of her beautiful red dress.
My first instinct was to reach for a napkin.
I almost did.
Then Lucy laughed.
That wonderful, carefree laugh that had made Noah choose the dress in the first place.
I lowered my hand.
The stain didn’t matter.
The dress had never been meant to stay perfect.
