Bradleyville series

As a chalk-fingered child, I had worn my craving for Mama's love on my sleeve. But as I grew, that craving became cloaked in excuses and denial until slowly it sank beneath my skin to lie unheeded but vital, like the sinews of my framework. By the time I was a teenager, I thought the gap between Mama and me could not be wider. And then Danny came along. . . .A splendidly colored sidewalk. Six-year-old Celia presented the gift to her mother with pride---and...