“I dreamt about it,” she says as she pants alongside me, heading back uphill from Bright Angel Bridge. “A boy. I think I’d like to have a boy.” “Did he have your hair?” “Yes.” I grin. “Then I approve.” “We’ll show him how to skate,” she says. She gives my fingers a quick squeeze. “He might not love it like we do, but we can try.” “Maybe he’ll be a figure skater.” “Or a hockey player,” she counters.
