Michael took it carefully.
“You sewed it?”
“Mostly. Ms. Collins helped with the difficult parts.”
He studied the uneven stitching.
Then a faint smile crossed his face.
“Your mom used to make things like this.”
Grace’s eyes brightened.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“She loved making costumes. She could turn almost anything into something beautiful.”
Grace touched the fabric.
“I don’t really remember her sewing.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
She looked toward the machine.
“That’s why I wanted to learn.”
Michael slowly lifted his eyes.
Grace continued.
“Everybody tells me stories about Mom. They tell me what she liked, what she wore, and how funny she was.”
Her voice trembled.
“But I wanted to do something she actually did.”
My throat tightened.
“I thought maybe if I learned to sew, I’d feel closer to her.”
Michael looked down at the little blue vest.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
