“Look at him right here, Frances,” she said, tracing the picture with a fingernail.

“Wasn’t he such a handsome young man back then?”

“He certainly was,” I agreed softly, and I meant it, and I felt, for a moment, close to her in our shared love of the man in the bed.

I did not know yet that even the albums were part of it — that Shirley never did anything, in those months, without a reason underneath the reason.

That was Shirley’s particular gift, and I say gift because it truly was one, however she chose to use it.