But I thought—the stress of Daddy’s life! His feuds, his hatreds. He’d worn himself out fighting enemies.

Thirteen years, a son in prison. The other, older son killed in prison. The daughter who’d betrayed him. Never can you outlive the shame, the ignominy, if you are a man of pride. Each day you are reminded anew. Each day is contaminated.

Still, I’d stubbornly believed that Daddy would relent and forgive me, one day. So long as it was a choice of his and not forced upon him by anyone else, that might have been possible.

Deciding on a whim one day to call me. Summon me.

Hey Violet Rue! Been missing you like hell.

In My Mother’s Garden

KATIE INSISTS YES IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT.

Of course, she has prepared Mom. And Mom is expecting me.

Not in the house in which we’d grown up at 388 Black Rock Street but in a smaller house in the same neighborhood, a half-mile away.

I am nervous! Wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans.

I am driving to this house, alone. In the trunk of the Honda Civic are several potted plants for my mother’s garden which Katie has helped me select at a local nursery.

Katie thinks it is better for me to go alone. Next time I visit Mom, she will come with me. But this first time—“Just the two of you. That will be better, I think.”

It is heartening to me, Katie assumes there will be a second visit. That Mom will be happy to see me, and want to see me again.

Katie has cautioned me not to be shocked by our mother’s appearance. Five months ago she’d had surgery to remove a small growth beneath her arm, near her left breast. The cancer had been stage 3, metastasized to several lymph nodes. But the surgery went well, radiation and chemotherapy have gone well, just a few weeks remaining of the treatment.

All this is news to me. Another shock. Katie assures me, Mom didn’t want most people to know about the cancer. She’d told her, of course. She’d told Miriam. And a few relatives, close friends. But she hadn’t told her sister Irma, she hadn’t wanted Irma to come visit her, make a fuss. Making a fuss was what Lula most dreaded.

Of course, she hadn’t told the boys. Les, Rick. Lionel.