up neat and straight.
Then she picked up her white game jersey from her sports bag, unfolded it, and laid it smoothly over the seat cushion.
I stood in the doorway and watched her arrange the uniform piece by piece in the quiet light of her desk lamp.
Kaylee carefully laying her volleyball uniform across her desk chair.
I went down the dark hallway to the kitchen where Travis stood by the sink. Mason sat at the corner of the table with a bowl of vanilla ice cream, scraping his plastic spoon against the sides while his heels clicked against the chair rungs.
“Kaylee is upstairs laying out her clothes for tomorrow,” I said, standing near the refrigerator.
Travis set his glass coffee mug in the sink drainer. He wiped his palms on his blue work pants and did not turn around right away.
“Good,” Travis said. “A girl needs
