eart. It was where I grew up. It was where my family home had always been. I knew its streets and avenues, the familiar landmarks each associated with some event or time in my youth. California was new and wide open.
We’d build new memories there – memories of our lives together and with our children. Drake would have his work at the hospital. I would have whatever work I finally decided on – art or journalism. At that moment, I felt no pressure to do either, only a freedom to pursue both if I wanted.
I sighed and helped them build another castle, the bright California sun warm on my back.
THE END