“Of course,” I said. “We’re going there anyway.”
The following morning, she asked again.
Then she asked two days later.
Before long, Sophie stopped waiting for an invitation. Every weekday at 7:20, she would appear on our doorstep with her backpack, her hair neatly brushed, and her lunchbox tucked beneath her arm.
I honestly didn’t mind.
Sophie was a sweet girl. She was quiet around adults, but once she felt comfortable, she could make Emma laugh so hard that I sometimes had to pull over because the two of them were distracting me.
The school was only five miles away, and having Sophie along made the morning drive more enjoyable.
Besides, I had always been the parent people called when they needed help.
When my neighbor Greg had to work late, I drove his daughter Mia to soccer practice.
When Rachel broke her ankle, I handled school pickups for her two boys for nearly three weeks.
