Was she all right? Kathleen wasn’t sure.

“I’m fine, but—I love you, Liza. I love you very much. I don’t tell you that enough.” And now she’d finally said it, she wondered why it had taken her so long. It wasn’t as if her feelings had changed or deepened. The only thing that had changed was her ability to share those feelings.

It took Liza so long to respond Kathleen wondered if she’d hung up.

“Liza?”

“Yes, I’m here. I love you too. You know that.” There was another pause. “Are you sure you’re all right? If you’d like me to come, I can fly out tomorrow. I’ll get on the first flight.”

Kathleen felt emotion squeeze her chest. Oh how she wished her daughter was here, but she couldn’t ask that of her. “You have France soon. There must be so much to do.”

“Would you like me to come?”

Yes, yes. Please come. She thought how reassuring it would be to have Liza by her side if she decided to see Ruth again after all these years. But Liza had France and her family to think of. Sean. It would be selfish to ask her to come, and Kathleen had put her own needs first more than enough in life. “No.” She said it firmly. “There’s no need, but thank you. I should go. We have a table booked and it’s a popular restaurant.”

“Enjoy your evening. Love you, Mum.”

“I love you too.” Feeling better for the conversation, Kathleen headed to the restaurant. It was crowded with people, the air fragrant with chili, garlic and roasted meat.

She ate red corn posole and it reminded her of the time she’d traveled to Mexico to film The Summer Seekers. When would that have been? 1975? No, later.

Martha and Josh were deep in conversation about their Grand Canyon trip, which left Kathleen time to enjoy the food and the view of the pretty garden.

Ruth had mentioned her garden in California, and her terrace with the view of the Pacific Ocean.

I love to cook, and I still drink Earl Grey tea, as we did all those years ago.

I often think about you and wonder where you are.

I wonder whether you ever think of me, the way I so often think of you. Writing these letters has been my way of staying close to you. When I write them, I feel as if you’re listening.

Kathleen put her fork down. “I want to see her.”

Martha and Josh stopped talking.

“Ruth?”

“Yes, Ruth.” Her heart beat a little faster and she took a sip of water. “I’m here now. I may never make it as far as California again.”

Martha smiled at her. “I think she’ll be beyond thrilled to hear from you.”

“There you go again. Hyperbole.”

“Well, let’s assess her reaction before you correct my grammar.” Martha reached across the table. “Trust me, she’ll be thrilled.”