This afternoon, I went to my former son-in-law’s arraignment. Before I was allowed into the courtroom, I had to go through a metal detector. Do you believe it? They checked me for weapons! But now that I think about it, maybe it’s a good thing they did.”
With the implied threat still lingering in the air, Lael Gastone lit her candle and placed it on the table. Shaking her head, she strode across the stage to the last unoccupied chair. Meanwhile, the mistress of ceremonies returned to the microphone.
“Thank you all for joining us here tonight,” she said. “Many of us will be here until morning, until the sun comes up on what we hope will be the dawn of a new day of nonviolence for women in this state and in this country. Some, but not all, of the people who have spoken here tonight will be with us throughout the vigil. I’m sure it means a great deal to all of them that so many of you ca me here for this observance. Please stay if you can and visit with some of them. It’s important. As you have heard tonight, it truly is a matter of life death.”
“Shall we go?” Leann whispered to Joanna.
Joanna shook her head. “Just a minute,” she said. “Ceci Grijalva is a friend of my daughter’s. I shouldn’t leave without at least saying hello.”
They made their way through the surging crowd to the makeshift stage where little knots of well-wishers were gathering around each of the speakers. While Leann went to pay her respects to Rhonda Norton’s mother, Joanna headed for spot where she had last seen Joe Duffy and Cecilia Grijalva. Ceci’s grandfather was deep in conversation with Renata Sanchez, one of the other speakers. Meanwhile, unobserved by most of the adults, Ceci had slipped off by herself. In isolated dejection, she sat on the edge of the stage, dangling her legs over the side and kicking at the empty air.
“Ceci?” Joanna asked. “Are you all right?”
Without looking up, the child nodded her head but said nothing.
Joanna tried again. “I know you from Bisbee,” she explained. “I’m Joanna Brady, Jenny’s mother.”
This time Ceci did look up. “Oh,” she said,
Joanna winced at the pain in that one-word answer. Ceci Grijalva’s voice was weighted down with the same hurt and despair that had taken the laughter out of Jenny’s voice, too.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Joanna said.
“It’s okay,” Ceci mumbled, staring down at her feet once more.
It is not okay, Joanna wanted to scream. It’s awful! It’s a tragedy! It’s horrible. Instead, she hoisted herself up on the stage until she was sitting next to Cecelia.
“Jenny wanted me to come see you,” Joanna began. “She wanted me to tell you that she knows how you feel.”
Cecelia Grijalva nodded. Joanna continued. “You know Ceci, Jenny didn’t lose her mom the way you did, because I’m still here. But she did lose her daddy. He died down in Bisbee, a few days before your mother died.”
Ceci’s chin came up slowly. Her dark eyes drilled into Joanna’s. “Jenny’s daddy is dead, too?”
Joanna nodded. “That’s right. Somebody shot him. Jenny thought you’d like to know that you’re not the only one going through this and if—”
“Ceci, come on!” a woman’s voice ordered from somewhere on the stage behind them. “We’ve got a long drive home.”
