The photo that Eddie attached showed the two women standing arm in arm in front of a stucco wall covered with climbing vines, surrounded by a number of people I didn’t know. The man next to Lily was probably Eddie, her brother, but the rest of the people I wasn’t sure about. On Kath’s side were several white people who could have been her relatives, and a few children stood in front. Some of them were half Asian, like me. Everyone was smiling, but none looked as happy as Lily and Kath, who were gazing at each other rather than the photographer. I zoomed in on Lily’s and Kath’s faces, feeling an unexpectedly vivid connection to them both, as if I could sense the love between them glowing like a radiant sun. After so many years, they could show their love to the world at last.

Chapter 52

I was flying out super early on Sunday morning with my dad after the family memorial service, so I had to pack before. My new boots wouldn’t fit in my suitcase, so I found an old duffel bag in the basement and put them in there. Dad and Aunt Tammy agreed that I could have Joan’s camera and her catalog. I added those to the duffel bag along with my broken telescope. I rolled up my unfinished painting and wedged it in, too.

I almost threw away the Madchen CD and postcard, but at the last minute I slid them into the suitcase’s interior pocket.

I put Steph’s copy of The Dream of a Common Language in my purse so I could give it to her if she came to the memorial.

—

Dad and I arrived early at the Fairfax Women’s Club, but Aunt Tammy was already there, along with Uncle Brian and their kids, Luke and Noah. They had set up a table at the back of the room for photos of my grandmother, which were lined up in chronological order. Joan as a blond child, as a teen girl in a 1950s dress, in her wedding gown with Grandpa. The young couple with their kids in Boulder. A big family photo taken at a reunion in the 1980s. There was one that included my mom and me as a baby; a shot of my grandparents when they were older, on a ship in the ocean; me and Joan and Dad on a summer vacation a couple of years ago.

The rest of the family began to arrive. Grandpa’s younger brother, Rob, and his wife, who drove up from Santa Barbara. Great-Aunt Margaret, Joan’s sister, had flown in from Chicago with her husband. She looked so much like Joan that I had to stop myself from staring at her.