I’m halfway through my route when I pass a powder blue automobile with its tire blown out. It’s got a polish on the hood like it's made of sunlight, and the engine growls like a bear. I wonder who’d be out on the highway this early besides me and my bike—I’ve got my Sunday route, after all—when John Wilder gets out of the car and opens the passenger side door for his daughter.
Jenny earns her eleventh star three days before Christmas. It seems almost too late to hang another token on our raggedy tree, but Jenny adheres strictly to her own unique traditions. She's bright and snarky when I pick her up from the hospital, smirking at the sight of me.