““Bay leaves granted wishes as July turned into August. I wrote a wish on the leaf and kissed it three times in front of the moon, and then I slept with the scent of bay wafting from under my pillow. Rose said my wishes smelled like chicken soup and Thanksgiving turkey. But really my wish smelled like Aunt Ruth’s cinnamon rolls and ash soap, the special kind of soap she pulled from under the sink when we had a bad dream.””