I felt a pang. Nodded. “It was always a treat,” I said. “Looking back, I figure it really meant she and Ham had run out of money before they ran out of month.”

Jolie grinned. “Probably.”

“Did you get Sweetie all squared away with the friends in the country?”

“Yes,” Jolie said. “And it’s okay to say you’re relieved I didn’t bring him with me. He gave you a pretty hard time the other day.”

I shuddered slightly at the reminder of being trapped on top of Jolie’s refrigerator for several hours with nothing to do but memorize the instruction book for the microwave. If I ever ran into a French person with thawing problems, though, I’d be ready.

“I don’t think Sweetie likes me,” I said.

“He likes you fine,” Jolie replied, chomping into her bacon.

“Maybe with salt and pepper and a side of fries.”

Jolie laughed. “He wouldn’t have eaten you.”

“It wasn’t the eating part I was worried about,” I told her. “It was the gnawing.”

She smiled.

“It would be great to have you living in Phoenix,” I said. “I miss you, big-time.”

“If you miss me so much,” Jolie reasoned, “why did you boogie like that the other night? Why didn’t you stay and talk it through?”

“I don’t know.” It seemed I’d been saying that a lot lately.

“I’m on your side, Moje. You were rattled because some of your memories were coming back, and you panicked. I could have listened, maybe helped you sort things out, if you’d given me a chance.”

“A part of me doesn’t want to remember,” I confessed.

“Ya think?” Jolie chimed. She sounded smart-ass, but I saw the concern in her eyes.

“Maybe it’s better not to start digging things up,” I mused. “After all, it’s been twenty-three years. It’s old news.”

Jolie put down her fork, pushed her plate to one side for the waitress to remove. “Lillian must have thought you were in danger, to kidnap you like that,” she said. “She’d have gone to prison, maybe for life, if they’d caught her. She blew off her whole life—her home, her friends, everything, to get you out of Dodge. Has she ever told you why?”

I shook my head. “I’ve asked, but she always said it was better to leave the past alone. She was a great mom. She was also a master at stonewalling. The more questions I put to her, the less she was willing to say.”

“I’ve often wondered how much she told my dad,” Jolie reflected.

“Me, too.”

Jolie signaled for the check.

I’d left my ATM card at home, and I didn’t have any cash. I hadn’t deposited Greer’s check, either, since I’d been a little busy. I snatched the bill, just the same, since Jolie had paid the time before, at the Italian place in Tucson, and handed the waitress my credit card. I offered a silent prayer and hoped for the best.