her tiny table, drinking imaginary tea from a plastic cup while she decorated his gray hair with pink ribbons.
For such a serious man, he looked ridiculous.
But seeing them together slowly changed the way I saw him.
One afternoon, after finishing my errands, I sat in the kitchen for a few minutes to rest my aching feet.
Richard appeared with a cup of tea and placed it in front of me.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I said.
“Then consider this my rebellion.”
Over time, I
