Deanna looked at my face and read it quickly. “But they have absolutely no idea I exist. After a lifetime, I just show up and ...” She shook her head and collapsed into sobs, just as her mother had in a train station over sixty years ago, in a world neither of us knew or understood.

You are always on my mind, no matter where I go

or what I do.

The thought of you brings light into the darkest day.

twenty-two

VIOLET

She woke in the middle of the night and stared at the unfamiliar shadows dancing on the wall. A glance from her bedroom window revealed a new streetlight silhouetting the limbs of an oak tree she’d climbed as a child; now thirty feet tall and swaying gently in a pre-dawn breeze. A thin branch tapped the side of the house.

Violet turned toward the darkness of her closet and tried to conjure the dream she’d been having: she was slow dancing in Johnny Perkins’ arms, her head on his shoulder. She nuzzled his neck, inhaling his spicy Seaforth cologne and the faint odors of fresh shampoo and soap. The music was familiar, something about forever love, and Johnny was softly singing along. They glided as one body across the polished wood floor, pure joy and peace. Suddenly there was a jolt and Johnny stumbled; he’d been shoved to the floor and lay in a heap at her feet. Violet turned to see who’d attacked Johnny; no one was in the room but the two of them. Then, off in the distance, she saw Johnny’s limp body carried away by a group of people. She chased them, screaming, until she collided with a closed metal door. She’d been pounding it with her fists when she woke.

She wondered if she ever crossed Johnny’s mind, if he closed his eyes and found himself dancing with her.