Jack was oddly
quiet as Kitty laid a bouquet of flowers on the grave. “What do you think he was like?” he asked
her.
“Well…” Kitty paused, searching for the words to
explain the complicated grandfather Jack would never be allowed to remember. In a way she envied him that. Her own memories rubbed against her, the hair shirt she was condemned to wear. “He looked smart to me, but at the same time
like someone who could appreciate a joke. And a little sad.”
“What do you think
he was sad about?”
“Maybe that he
didn’t have his family anymore.”
“That’s a good
reason.” Fiddling with a blade of grass, Jack said, “I hope I
don’t die alone.”
“You won’t,” Kitty told him. “I promise.”
“You won’t,” Kitty told him. “I promise.”