“What do you think, Grandma?” Michael asked, pulling me into the conversation.
I smiled at my grandson and granddaughter, at the baby who represented our future, at the bookstore that had grown from trust and respect rather than obligation and greed.
“I think,” I said, “that this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
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I came home to Virginia with one plan so plain it should have been impossible to ruin. I wanted to sit in the back row, clap when…