Chapter 85 - The Paper Train
Leo mailed me a drawing of a train with seven windows and a conductor who looked suspiciously like a dinosaur. Dorothy enclosed a note: He says this one meets building regulations.
I taped it above my drafting desk.
Elena came over to assemble a secondhand bookshelf and noticed it immediately. “You've acquired a client with very demanding specifications.”
“Seven windows. No fewer.”
We put the shelves together crookedly, took them apart, and started again. Elena insisted the instructions were written by somebody who had never seen a screwdriver. I told her architects weren't above reading diagrams. We laughed until the shelf finally stood straight.
When Adrian called, I mentioned the drawing.
“He asks about you,” Adrian said.
“That doesn't make me part of his guardianship case.”
“I know.”
May you like
“But I'd be happy to send him a picture of a real train station.”
Adrian thanked me. There was no hidden request attached to the gratitude. I looked at the paper train on my wall and hoped Leo would grow up surrounded by adults who knew how to enjoy something without owning it.
