But Pearl said, “June has waited more than forty years to find out whether either of you would ever come.” So despite everything, we left together that afternoon.

On the drive, Pearl described Mom before children and illness — how she made diner customers laugh, saved money in a coffee tin, believed hard work could fix anything.

“Her strength was also her weakness,” Pearl said. “She decided for everyone.”

June was waiting in a sunroom overlooking Lake Maren. She looked so much like Mom that I stopped breathing for a moment, and Nicole stopped too.

June stayed seated, letting Nicole choose how close to come. Nicole set a childhood photograph on the table — herself at seven, in a red coat, missing one tooth.

June touched its corner.