Chapter 15 — Lucille

I want to tell you Enid called Lucille, and that it all mended, and that would be a nicer ending than the true one.

What actually happened is smaller and I think better.

Enid did not call Lucille.

Nineteen years is a long coat and she was seventy-four and some things are too heavy to lift alone.

But that summer, with my help — because it turned out the design girl was good at exactly this, at finding people and drafting the careful first words — Enid wrote her a letter.

Not an apology, exactly; she was not capable of a full apology and I did not push her to fake one.