Well, you haven’t said anything. It’s pretty plain– I know. Do you hate it? It’s not what I expected. It certainly needs some– It’s better! I love it. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Are you kidding? What more could you ask for? I’m probably the luckiest woman alive. Oh, stop it. I mean it! Are you okay, love? I…I’m okay. It’s strange – just seeing this old shoppe brings back everything. Can you tell me? Not much to tell…Just tired memories. Through the sweet aroma of caramel and fudge, I can still smell my father’s stale cigarettes and the stacks of newsprint. I’m sure that no one else can, but I know it’s there. Right here by the register, I’d sit for hours with my books. Right here it seems I’m just a little girl again, all tea sets and pigtails, always clinging to my mother’s apron. Then, right here, it’s hardly ten feet away I feel my heart in my throat. I see the old man, his furrowed brow, his clenched jaw, his stubborn scowl. This is where I finally told the truth. This is where I watched the shame cloud in his eyes. This is where I lost my father. Where I shouted things I didn’t mean at a man who’d never understand. Here, the colors turned to gray and my home became a foreign place. That was almost 12 years ago.