“Doesn’t coffee sound nice mom?”, asks Vivienne from the backseat, her little cheeks lifting into a mischievous grin. “Um…sure”, Lyllian glances back at her daughter suspicion making its way from her daughter’s sparkling eyes to her daughter’s raised eyebrows.

“And oh yea, the bread is next to the coffee place right mom? Or is it? Hmmm…we could check.” And there it is. Lyllian laughs. It is Wednesday. Frankie has Art Club after school today and lately she and Viv had taken to stopping by the market near her school and grabbing a latte and a bag of pita bread. A little treat to make the waiting go by a little brighter. Or so she told herself as she held the hot cup to her face warming her cheeks and nose.

Her little Vivienne could be described in a million words and pictures. All of them colorful and full of spirit. She was everything it seemed Lyllian was not. Sure she was only six years old but already she surpassed Lyllian in sheer nerve. She was fearless and full of swagger. Confident and demanding. Whimsical and lively. She was on center stage and she knew it. She could of course be selfish and mercenary. But her heart was charitable and she was always the first to offer up a bite here and a corner of the blanket there.

Lyllian was fascinated by her daughter.

Next Chapter: Lyllian, March 2017, Seattle