The Things We Do for Love

Lauren nodded. Her dark eyes were earnest. "Always. "

Angie smiled. This was the best shed felt in months. "Okay, then. You can start tomorrow night. Say five to ten. Is that okay?"

"Its great. "

Angie reached across the table and shook Laurens warm hand. "Welcome to the family. "

"Thanks. " Lauren got quickly to her feet. "Id better go home now. "

Angie would have sworn she saw tears in the girls brown eyes, but before she could comment on it, Lauren was gone. It wasnt until later, when Angie was closing out the register, that it dawned on her.

Lauren had bolted at the word family.

WHEN ANGIE GOT HOME, THE COTTAGE WAS QUIET AND dark, and in all those shadows lay loneliness.

She closed the door behind her and stood there, listening to the sound of her own breathing. It was a sound shed grown used to, and yet here, in this house that had been loud in her youth, it wounded her. When she couldnt stand it anymore, she tossed her purse on the entry table and went to the old RCA stereo in the living room. She pushed a cassette into the tape player and turned the system on.

Tony Bennetts voice floated through the speakers, filling the room with music and memories. This was her papas favorite tape; the one hed made himself. Every song began late, sometimes as much as a whole stanza. Whenever hed heard one he loved, hed jump up from his chair and run for the stereo, yelling, "I love this

one!"

She wanted to smile at the memory, but that lightness wasnt in her. In fact, it felt far away. "I hired a new waitress tonight, Papa. Shes a high school girl. You can imagine Mamas reaction to that. Oh, and she has red hair. "

She went to the window and stared outside. Moonlight dusted the waves and glistened along the dark blue sea. The next song came on. Bette Midlers "Wind Beneath My Wings. "

It had played at his funeral.

The music swirled around her, threatened to pull her under.

"It is easy to talk to him, isnt it? Especially here. "

Angie spun around at the sound of her mothers voice.

Mama stood behind the sofa, staring at her, obviously trying to smile. She was dressed in a ratty old flannel nightgown, one Papa had given her years ago. She crossed the room and snapped off the stereo.

"What are you doing here, Mama?"

Mama sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion. "I knew you would have a hard night. "

Angie sat down beside her, close enough to lean against her mothers steady side. "How did you know?"

Mama put an arm around her. "The girl," she said at last.

Angie couldnt believe she hadnt figured it out. Of course. "Ill need to keep my distance from her, wont I?"

"Youve never been good at that. "

"No. "

Mama tightened her hold. "Just be careful. Your heart is soft. "

"It feels as if its in pieces sometimes. "

Mama made a sound, a little sigh. "We keep breathing in times like that. Theres nothing else. "

Angie nodded. "I know. "

After that, they got out a deck of cards and played gin rummy long into the night. By the time they fell asleep side by side on the sofa, curled up beneath a quilt Mama had made years ago, Angie had found her strength again.