“Fasten your seatbelts. We’re landing in Los Angeles.” Jorden looked out the window and saw the urban sprawl. Though on a much larger scale, it reminded her of the view of Albany last May.

***

Previous Year – Albany, Sunday morning, May18, 1969

Jorden tossed and turned Saturday night, praying for sleep to ease her sorrow. She didn’t like feeling this way. By nine on Sunday morning, she carried her bags down to the kitchen. Alex and his mother were having coffee and reading the newspaper. Jorden watched them, thinking how different they looked. Alex must take after his father, the one she never met. What a strange family, so different from her own close-knit one. Why hadn’t Alex walked with her in the garden last night? Such a simple gesture would have made all the difference.

Alex looked up. “I could have gotten those bags for you. I didn’t expect you to bring them down.”

“They weren’t heavy, besides, I had to come down anyway.” Jorden tried to make a joke, but she could see the irritation in his unsmiling eyes.

“Let me get you some coffee,” Mrs. Whelan offered. “I made scrambled eggs, bacon, tomato slices with Parmesan cheese, and muffins. Help yourself. They’re staying warm in the oven.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Whelan.” Jorden knew she was just trying to be nice to ease the tension. She didn’t look directly at Alex, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“I hope you slept well,” Alex commented.

“Fine,” Jorden replied. The last thing she wanted was to show her true feelings. Besides, he probably didn’t have a clue how much he had upset her last night.

Jorden fixed her plate and poured a glass of orange juice. Amazed by the freshness of the juice and her own thirst, she gulped down half of the glass before she spoke. “This is the best juice I’ve ever tasted!”

“I make it from fresh oranges. I’ve spoiled my family and can’t get away with buying frozen juice anymore,” Margo replied.

Jorden was glad Alex’s mother spoiled someone. But, she had to admit his mother was a gourmet chef. “Everything is wonderful, especially the tomato slices.”

“I’m so glad you like them,” Margo said, brightening.

Alex broke into the conversation. “What time should we leave for the airport?”

“My flight’s at two fifteen, so we should probably leave around noon,” Jorden replied.

“Good, we have an hour. I can keep my promise and show you the garden.”

“Thank you,” Jorden replied, thinking it was better later than never.

“What a great suggestion,” Margo added with enthusiasm. “I’ll get my shoes and join you. It’s a perfect time to walk in the garden.”

“Mother, you’ve seen it a trillion times,” Alex said with a shake of his head.

“Nonsense. I’d like to show it to Jorden. It’s my showcase.”