I held it out. Georgia took it and slid it onto her wrist without looking at me.
“Smile!” Sheldon said.
Georgia smiled too, technically. It resembled the strained smile people offer at the DMV.
Sheldon took about forty pictures. He took pictures by the hydrangeas, by the front door, by the car, and then by the car again from a different angle. Georgia barely said a word throughout. She stood there in her green dress with her arms at her sides and looked like she’d been sentenced to three hours of accounting.
“Okay, Dad,” she said finally. “I think you have enough.” GetParenting Tips
“One more! One more!”
“Dad.”
“Okay, okay.” Sheldon lowered the camera. He studied me. “Midnight, Brent.”
“Midnight, sir.”
“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said to Georgia. He kissed her on the forehead.
She let him. She walked to the passenger side of Uncle Frank’s mustard-colored Buick silently and got in.
