They made it to the theater in less than fifteen minutes. They passed through the doors, showed their tickets, and stepped into the crowded but beautiful lobby.
"He loved it here," Mama said, her voice thready. "He always bought one of those expensive programs, and he never threw them away. I still have a huge stack of them in the closet. "
Angie put an arm around her mother, held her tightly.
"He would have led us right to the bar. "
"And so well follow him. " Angie led the way to the small area where cocktails were served. Elbowing her way through the crowd, she ordered two white wines. Glasses in hand, she and Mama sipped the wines and walked around the lobby, appreciating the gilded, baroque decor.
At seven-fifty, the lights flickered.
They hurried to their seats in the fourth row and sat down. The theater was filled with hushed noise-- footsteps, whispered voices, people moving in the orchestra pit.
Then the show began.
For the next hour, the audience sat, enthralled, as the sad and beautiful story unfurled. At intermission, when the house lights came up, Angie turned to her mother.
"What do you think?"
Mama was crying.
Angie understood. This music did that to you; it released your deepest emotions.
"He would have loved this one," Mama said. "I would have grown weary of the soundtrack. "
Angie touched her mothers velvety soft hand. "Youll tell him all about it. "
Mama turned to her. The old-fashioned glasses magnified her dark, teary eyes. "He wont talk to me so much anymore. He says, Its time, Maria. I dont know what Ill do all alone. "
Angie knew about that kind of loneliness. It hurt, sometimes more than you could bear, but there was no way to avoid it. You simply kept moving until it passed. "Youll never be alone, Mama. You have children and grandchildren and friends and family. "
"Its not the same. "
"No. "
Mamas mouth creased sadly downward. They sat there, silent and remembering, until Mama said, "Would you get me something to drink?"
"Sure. "
Angie sidled down the row of seats and merged into the crowd. At the door, she paused for a moment and looked back.
Mama was the only person left in the fourth row. She looked small from here, a little hunched. And she was talking to Papa.
Angie hurried across the lobby toward the bar. There were dozens of people clustered there.
That was when she saw him.
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
He looked good.
Take your breath away and make your heart ache good.
But then, hed always been the most handsome man shed ever seen. She remembered the first time shed ever seen him, all those years ago on Huntington Beach. Shed been trying to learn to surf and doing a terrible job of it. A huge wave had tumbled over her, sucked her under, and turned her around. Shed panicked and flailed, unable to tell which way was up. Then a hand had grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to the surface. Shed found herself looking into the bluest pair of eyes shed ever seen. . . .
"Conlan. " She said his name quietly, as if maybe he wasnt really there and she was imagining him. She moved toward him.
He saw her.