“Wow,” she said.

Mitch took away her coffee cup, refilled it and returned to the living room. “You approve, I take it?”

“I’m not sure if I approve or not, but I’m impressed. The writing is good, Mitch, really good. How could you have learned so much about Rosamond from a few pictures and scrapbooks and a couple of conversations with me?”

Mitch was settled into the overstuffed chair nearest the couch. “I did a lot of research, Shay. For instance, I talked to all six of her ex-husbands by phone. And your grandmother—”

“My grandmother?” Shay felt a quickening inside, one of mingled surprise and alarm. “I don’t have a grandmother.”

Mitch lowered his eyes to his coffee, taking a sip before he answered, “Yes, you do.”

Shay set the pages of the manuscript aside, fearing that she would drop them if she didn’t. “Speaking of things people don’t bother to mention…”

Mitch set aside his cup and raised both hands in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t find out about her until this afternoon, Shay, after I’d dropped you off here. One of my research people had tracked her down and he gave me her name and phone number.”

Shay swallowed. “You called her?”

“Yes. Her name is Alice Bretton and she lives in Springfield, Missouri. Your father—”

“Is her son,” Shay’s voice was shaky.

“Was her son, I’m afraid. He was a navy pilot, Shay, and he was shot down in combat.” Mitch was sitting beside Shay on the couch now, holding her gently and not too tightly.

“They’re sure? So many pilots—”

“He’s dead, Shay. He was positively identified.”

An overwhelming feeling of betrayal and hurt washed over Shay. “I didn’t even know him. Rosamond wouldn’t tell me his name.”

“His name was Robert Bretton.”

“Tell me about him!”

Mitch sighed. “I don’t know the whole story. He and Rosamond were ‘going steady,’ as they called it back then. When things went wrong, your mother bought a bus ticket to Hollywood and from what Mrs. Bretton told me, Robert finished college and then joined the navy.”

Shay was dizzied by the sudden influx of information that had been denied her throughout her life, first by Rosamond’s reluctance to talk, then by her illness. “There are so many things I want to know.…”

“Why don’t you get in touch with your grandmother tomorrow? She’ll be able to tell you a lot more than I can.”

“She might not want anything to do with me!”

Mitch shook his head. “She asked me a thousand questions about you, Shay.” He pulled a wry face meant to lighten the mood. “Of course, I didn’t tell her how you taste when you’ve just had a half ton of sugar dumped over your head.”

Shay was making a sound, but she wasn’t sure whether she was laughing or crying or both. She gave Mitch a shove and then allowed her forehead to nestle into his broad shoulder.

“Make love to me, Mitch,” she said after a very long time.