Winnie

Chandler grabs my hand, pulling me away from the clothing store where shoppers must knock and have an appointment to enter.

It's Friday morning, and we've taken the day off from work.

Tonight is the Cruze family dinner.

I think we're going ring shopping.

"The jewelry store is back there," I say, using my hand to shield my eyes from the L.A. sun.

Chandler turns his baseball cap backward and tells me, "I know."

We stop at a rug ...