“Laurel! Time for dinner!” Mom shouted from the kitchen where the warm, sweet smell of cherry pie filled the air. I could smell the pie she was making from my upstairs bedroom. I love moms cherry pie. There is something about it that makes my heart cheer for joy. I don’t have much of that around here.
My papa is strict, and my mom, well, she does whatever papa says to do. I don’t know why papa i...