“The funeral,” Lorna says. “I wanted to be there. It felt wrong to miss it. But then, you know, it would have been unfair to just show up…”
   Mom nods. It would have been too risky, I suppose. The secret between them too electric.

“They were beautiful flowers,” Mom says. “The ones you sent. The most beautiful of all.”
There’s a long silence.

I wonder, if Dad had known he had only years or months or days to live, what he would have done differently. I wonder, if someone could have told him that Abigail and I would find out the truth, would it have been a secret relief to him?

I can’t figure out if the timing of all this is terrible or good. If we found Lorna much too late or just in time. Is it tragic and ironic that we’re only meeting her now…or is it a mercy that we’re meeting her while she’s still around to meet? I look at my sister and I hope this doesn’t destroy her. I hope that the mercy outweighs the tragedy.

Because I know perfectly well that sometimes having just a little—having just enough to dream of more—can be the hardest thing in the world.

*

When both Lorna and Mom have gone inside to use the restroom, the three of us look at each other.

“I don’t think they hate each other,” Sam says.
   “No,” I say quietly. “I don’t think they do.”
Abigail pulls Sam closer to her, kisses the top of his head.

“She’s nice,” Sam says. “But she doesn’t really seem like a grandma, does she?”
“No,” Abigail says, her eyes somewhere in the middle distance. “I guess not.”

Sam’s eyes are on the doorway through which the other two have gone.

“Is Dad going to meet her tomorrow?”

“I think your dad will want to go back early in the morning, Sam,” my sister says. “I don’t think he feels the need to meet Lorna.”

Sam frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

Sam looks at her. “I think we should stay longer.”

“You have to be back for school in a few days,” I remind him, and he glances at me, annoyed.

“But Lorna can visit us,” he says. “In Westchester. Right?”

Abigail pauses. “I hope so, Sam.”

“She wants to,” Sam says. “I can tell.”

I glance at my sister over his head. Are you sure you shouldn’t just tell him, I’m thinking. I don’t know if she can tell; she blinks at me, looks away.

My phone pings with a message from Oliver.

At the hotel. Room 504. Let me know if I should come meet you somewhere.

“Oliver’s arrived,” I say. “Should I tell him to come here?”

Abigail hesitates.

“I think maybe we should let Lorna rest,” she says. “She seemed to be getting kind of tired, don’t you think?”