The mid-August sunrise splashed across the front grass, the morning dew glistening for miles. The slip ‘n slide was still unfurled from the day before, like a mighty yellow river trailing down to the lake. It was a pond, really, but “lake” made it sound much bigger, and to us, that lake was larger than life...

That night, when Kathie walked through the door—quiet, trying a little too hard to seem unaffected—Rose didn’t say a word. She simply suggested they walk to the soda shoppe on the corner. A strawberry milkshake, maybe. Just the two of them on red stools, talking it out. No pressure. No questions. Just…
'shakes and sentiments'…

That’s when I remembered what my mom once told me—when she was a teenager, after her first heartbreak, Grandma Rose had taken her to a soda shoppe for root beer floats. Just the two of them, talking about everything and nothing at all. She called it…
'floats and feelings'…