“I really think we should concentrate on finishing some of the projects we’ve started,” she said, realizing how funny it was, her talking like she was the adult and he was the little kid with his crazy, impractical ideas. “Let’s work on the living room today after school, okay? That’ll be the first room Mama sees when she walks through the door. Don’t we want it to be perfect?”

More than looking disappointed, he looked tired. Old. He’d lost weight since Mama left. His skin looked sallow; there were dark circles under his eyes. His sandy-colored hair was a little too long. She needed to take better care of him, to make sure he ate more and to encourage him to go to bed earlier instead of falling asleep each night on the ratty old couch in front of the television in the living room.

For half a second, she thought about changing her mind, giving in, telling him sure, they could start in on her room just to make him happy, to see him smile.

She bit her lip, waited.

“Sure,” he said at last. “We can finish the living room first. What color do you think we should paint it?”

Olive smiled, let herself breathe. She thought about it while she spread thick white frosting on the cinnamon rolls.

“Blue,” she said. “Like the sky. Like the color of Mama’s favorite dress. You know the one I mean?”

Daddy frowned hard, his brow wrinkling all old-man-like, as if the memory of Mama in her dress was just too much for him. He seemed to get visibly smaller, shrinking before her eyes. “I know the one you mean,” he said, voice low and crackling. He looked down into the coffee mug, then took a sip even though it was steaming hot. “I’ll pick up some paint samples on my way home and let you decide which one’s closest.”

“Sounds good,” Olive said. She put a cinnamon roll on a plate and handed it to Daddy.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a big bite as he headed back out of the kitchen to get ready for work. “Mmm! You’re getting to be quite the cook.”

She thought of saying, They’re from a tube, Dad. A trained monkey could make them. But instead, she called out, “Thank you,” and took a sip from her own giant mug of coffee.

. . .