sanctuary until Naomi can set them up with a new life in the homeland, the U.S. homeland. We’re thinking New York, Los Angeles or San Francisco, where it will be easy for a talented Eurasian boy to blend into the local culture and also have access to the best music teachers. No rush, though. It’s a treat to have them in the residence, especially Joey, who is really something special, even aside from his genius for music. He knows what happened to Kathy, and mourns her in his own way, which includes writing a long, lyrical piece he’s calling “Brave Lady Sonata in C Minor.” She’d love it, I’m pretty sure. It’s beautiful and sad and brave, just like she was.
Naomi says, “Taylor Gatling found his own karma, too. If not in this life, then in the next.”
“He’s coming back as a cockroach.”
“If that’s his karma,” Naomi says, amused. “Which of course we can’t know.”
“Apparently you’re coming back as a fortune cookie.”
Naomi puts down her brush and laughs so hard her eyes tear up. Blotting away the wetness with a tissue she says, “You’re a treasure, Alice. You keep me centered, do you know that?”
“Don’t go all gooey on me, boss lady.”
“No chance,” she says. “I don’t do gooey.”
Naomi Nantz peels the gorgeous watercolor from the easel, holding it up to the light, as if to compare to the real thing.
“Almost perfect,” she says.
Then she tears it up.
