Seven years after moving in, he discovered the brochure for the house. They were cleaning out the basement, and a box of old documents contained the floor plans. He remembered what life was like seven years ago when the kids were two or three.

A spacious patio is possible, he read. He supposed it still was. A spacious patio was always possible.

Wasn't it?

It had to be or something in your life was done for good. Saturday he dug it up and pounded the dirt; Sunday he put down the sand and the pavers. The next week he bought a table and chairs.

The table wobbled a bit, but he didn't mind. It wobbled more as the years went on, and he still never cared.