Kenzie opened it. Inside was a small plastic fishing bobber, red and white, faded almost pink. The one from the picture.
She laughed and cried at the same time.
Here’s the part I still haven’t gotten over.
They walked down to the water and talked for almost an hour while the DJ played and people danced. When Kenzie came back, she didn’t go to Nate first. She came straight to me.
“Lorna,” she said. “Do you remember when you lost your insurance? When Corbin was fourteen?”
Of course I remembered. The dental office got bought out and the new owners cut benefits. Corbin had just started saying full sentences. I’d sat in Kenzie’s office and told her I had to stop bringing him, that I couldn’t do $175 a session, that I was sorry. And a week later I got a letter from something called the Lakes Area Family Fund, saying Corbin had been chosen for a full scholarship at the clinic. Paid every month. No end date. I never knew who was behind it. I just thanked God and kept driving him to appointments.
