ELIOT

Sunday was all sadness and wishes.

I wished I had been able to tell Alli goodbye. Instead, Miss Brodie-Rock had grabbed hold of her arm and held on tight, steering her onto the elevator. Alli didn’t resist; there was no need. She had what she had wanted so much, to see Baby and to touch Baby and to make sure Baby was perfect, to see that Mandy’s fall hadn’t hurt Baby.

I wished that sadness about Alli didn’t weigh so heavily on me as I measured flour, kneaded dough, played cards with Toby, and wished that Alli was here to eat a warm slice of sourdough bread, to watch me wrap the second loaf to take to the Thanksgiving dinner.

I watched Marj knead and braid a variation of our sourdough recipe. She was making extra loaves, in case there weren’t enough at the auction. She didn’t say I was in her way, but she didn’t really do much to encourage me sitting there, either, except look up and smile. Twice she started to say something, but always stopped with a slight shake of her head.

I wished time didn’t run so fast. But the days went by in a blink until there we were, on Tuesday morning, loading up and leaving for school, heading to the Thanksgiving dinner, the end of the Bread Project.

And I wished Alli was going with us.