almost perfectly.
The hem was a little long.
My sleeve was not as neat as Grandma’s.
Not even close.
But it was attached.
We carried Lily out to the front step.
The same step from the photograph beside Grandma’s chair.
Grandma was already waiting inside the doorway in her wheelchair.
Mom stood beside her holding the old picture of me.
I sat Lily down.
She immediately tried to crawl away.
“Of course,” I said.
Mom laughed.
“Put something in front of her.”
Grandma said, “Give her a button.”
“No.”
“A big one.”
“No.”
“You’re no fun.”
Eventually Mark stood behind the camera making ridiculous noises.
Lily looked up.
For one second, she was still.
Click.
We got it.
Me at four in the yellow-flowered dress.
Mom at two in pale blue.
Lily at one in cream and green.
Three photographs.
Same step.
Same woman behind the sewing.
Grandma stared at
