Chapter 49

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Mildred looked at her watch. Richard was late. Just enough time to read Vera’s letter again.

The hospital door opened and Richard came in, shaking the rain from his hat. He shoved his umbrella into the wastebasket, and then walked toward her, his eyes focused on the letter in her hand. “Reading it again, Millie? It won’t bring her back.” He pecked her cheek. “You have to act, do something. Talk to her.”

Mildred knew Vera was gone. Nothing would bring her back, but reading Vera’s letters helped her remember her daughter’s voice, raving about the latest Bette Davis tearjerker or “the swellest swing band in town, honest Mom.” Mildred folded the letter on its well-worn creases and returned it to her purse. Then she pulled out her rosary and blessed herself with the cross.

Richard sat some distance from his daughter’s bed. “I’m here,” he said, and then he was silent.