The Last Carton of Milk

Two weeks after returning from New York, Emma spent Saturday afternoon in the backyard of their new home in Oakhaven.

The house was a beautiful two-story craftsman with white trim, a wrap-around front porch, and a massive oak tree in the center of the fenced green lawn.

Marcus was at the barbecue grill flipping burgers, while Jasmine and Aunt Martha set up folding tables with fresh lemonade, potato salad, and home-baked apple pies.

Robert Walker sat on the porch swing with Leo, patiently helping the eight-year-old assemble a model balsa-wood airplane.

"Hold the wing steady right there, Leo," Robert smiled, applying a tiny drop of wood glue. "Just like that. Perfect."

Leo beamed up at the billionaire. "Are you going to teach me how to fly a real plane one day, Robert?"

"The day you turn sixteen, young man, I'll pay for your first flight lesson," Robert promised with a wink.

Emma walked up the porch steps carrying a tray of iced tea glasses, setting them down on the wicker table. She looked out over the sun-drenched yard, watching her friends laugh and enjoy the afternoon.

"Penny for your thoughts, Emma?" Robert asked, looking up from the model plane.

"I was just thinking about Mom," Emma said softly, a warm, nostalgic smile gracing her lips. "She used to dream about having a backyard like this where Leo could run around without worrying about traffic."

"She’s here, Emma," Robert said gently. "In every good thing you’ve built, in every life you’ve touched, and in the laughter of your brother."

Leo looked up, his eyes shining. "Emmy! Look at the plane! It's ready to fly!"

Leo dashed off the porch onto the lush grass, holding the wooden plane high as he sprinted across the yard, making engine noises while Marcus and Jasmine cheered him on.