I went to the kitchen, took off my coat. You'll find vat you need in the freezer, said the voice. Seven loaf cakes waited for me. I took them out to thaw. I covered a board with foil and prepared to mix an industrial sized batch of icing. Don't you be using shortening in that!In the refrigerator, I found pounds and pounds of butter. As I unwrapped each one, it softened in my hands, soft enough to mix with sugar.Shaping the cakes, gluing them together, listening to the voice in my head as I mixed colors I never knew existed and would never be able to recreate, I lost track of time. The butter cream, usually next to impossible to work with, held its shape better than any shortening. I lost myself in the cake, the last cake Sofie and I would make together.Praise for author Connie Biewald's Digging to Indochina"Digging is an apt metaphor for Connie Biewald's writing, which probes and sifts the buried storage vaults of family relationships with an archaeologist's precision. Her work will appeal to those readers who love the fiction of Anne Tyler and Carol Shields."-Lois Lowry, author of Newbery Medal Award-winning books, Number the Stars and The GiverVisit Biewald's website at www.conniebiewald.com.