“Oh my God!” Sam said again, his voice shaking. I’ve given birth to something inhuman, Phoebe thought. A lamprey with row after row of teeth.”

“I think she suspects something, though. We’ve had cherry pie for dessert five nights in a row.” His voice drawled, and my smile deepened.”

“On that night after Phoebe had given her Pandora report, I thought about the Hope in Pandora's box. Maybe when everything seemed sad and miserable, Phoebe and I could both hope that something might start to go right.”

“There are two kinds of people,’ she’d said. ‘Those who coast through life like ducks in a row, following one after the other, and those who ride the waves.’” Tears spilled down my cheeks, and my voice cracked. “‘Ride the waves, baby, and live. Live.”

“Pray to God, but row towards shore.”

“Ripe strawberries hung from the little plants, row after row. They gleamed like baubles, bright and red among the leaves, weighing down their stalks.”