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what?” he sputtered.
    â€œExciting stuff,” I said. “Like about not ever knowing where you’re going next, and having to be ready for anything.”
    â€œIt’s all about putting yourself in someone else’s shoes for a while,” Mom said, slipping her sandals back on. “Trying to understand each and every person’s needs.
    â€œAnd shoowee ,” Mom added, pointing toward Dad’s feet and pinching her nose. “From the smell of things, Douglas, you might want to put yourself in some other shoes too.”
    Honestly, I hadn’t noticed any stink coming off of Dad, but I smiled and nodded like I did.
    â€œMy apologies for rudely interrupting you girls making sport of me,” he said, patting his beard dry with a dish towel. “But have a look at this.”
    Dad picked up the slick remains of his soap from the dish, held the little piece out, and said, “Looks a bit like Abraham Lincoln, no?”
    Mom and I both tilted our heads from side to side to try and see the resemblance.
    â€œNot so much,” Mom said. “But I’d say it’s definitely a wishable piece of soap you’ve got there, Douglas.
    â€œSo, Cass,” she said. “You want to take that wish, or shall I?”
    â€œYou go,” I said.
    â€œWell, if you insist,” she said. “I’ll make a big one.”
    Dad and I both listened like we were going to be quizzed on it later.
    â€œI just wish that I could do more,” she said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” asked Dad.
    â€œLike, to be everywhere I’m needed all at once, you know?” said Mom. “So I could reach out to someone without having to let go of someone else to do it.”
    She picked up a piece of mail and fanned her face with it, making her charm bracelet tinkle like crazy.
    â€œWell, you never know, Toodi, this may be the day your wish comes true,” Dad said. “I’ve got a special something to reveal to you ladies at the party today.”
    â€œWhat? You mean surprises galore are outside that door?” said Mom. “That’s mighty unlike you to keep a secret, hon.”
    â€œYep,” he said. “And it’s the kind of something that will let all three of us do more for people… together .”
    Judging by the unchanged look on her face, I guessed Mom was less than captivated by Dad’s hint. But to my relief, she slapped the envelope onto the table and said, “So, what are we waiting for? How about we go on next door before Syd starts to hang Funyuns off his nose?”
    â€œYou two go on. I’ll be over in a minute,” Dad said, rummaging through the cabinets. “First I’m going to find some kind of smell-good to sprinkle in these shoes.”
    Poor Dad is so not the cheese, I thought as Mom and I stood to leave.

M om’s hand felt smooth as butter when I grabbed hold for the walk next door. After all, a ten-year-old can do that when it’s just a one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi thing. I had to take a double-stride to stay alongside her, which made my phone squeeze up and right over the edge of my back pocket. The phone bounced with a crack-crackcrack down onto the concrete steps, but I didn’t even care to see where it landed. Then Mom and I went separate ways around the Castanea dentata tree, stretching our arms till her lotiony hand slipped right out of mine.
    â€œToodi Bleu Nordenhauer, you are a vision!” Aunt Jo called out as she poked toothpicks into rows of Vienna sausages.
    â€œYou two are like a magnolia and her brightest bloom,” said Uncle Clay.
    â€œMore like a magnolia blossom and some stinkweed,” said Syd, with a ring of yellow crumbs around his lips.
    â€œGood one, crustache,” I said.
    â€œThere’s that lucky brother of mine.” Uncle Clay popped a cough drop into his mouth. When he plans on talking a lot, he always sucks on a Sucrets to smooth out his words a