A bag of potting soil, small gardening gloves, and a plastic watering can.
The girl looked at her.
“Can I use it?”
Her mother swallowed.
“For the yard?”
“Yeah. It’s easier than carrying the bag.”
The mother walked over and tested one handle with her palm.
Then stepped aside.
“Okay.”
The girl pushed.
The wheel squeaked once.
Her mother flinched before she could stop herself.
The girl heard it too.
She paused and looked back.
Her mother could have taken the handles.
Instead, she nodded toward the yard.
“Go ahead.”
So the six-year-old pushed the wheelbarrow across the grass, this time carrying dirt instead of newborns, moving only a few yards while her mother watched from the porch.
The key still hung on its piece of string, but no longer around the child’s neck.
It had been moved to a hook beside the front door where adults could reach it.
