Hannah sighed, stepped away, and gazed into the mirror over the dresser. She leaned close without pressing her stomach into the drawers, ran her fingers around her eyes and over her cheeks, then applied a layer, then two, of a sheer rosy pink to her lips.
It wasn’t much, but Boop would take what she could get.
That was true for lipstick and life.
“How do you feel?” Boop asked.
“I feel okay. Thank you for this.”
“You look better than okay. You look lovely.”
“Thanks, Boop.”
“Now, I want you to do something for me.” Boop led Hannah to the bed and they sat. “I want you to keep feeling okay, drive back to Kalamazoo, and tell Clark all the things you told us last night. You owe it to yourself to remind him how good you think you are together. How what you have is stronger than anything else, that he isn’t your safe choice or your second choice.”
“Who are you and what have you done with cynical, Clark-doubting Boop?”
“You have to grab the opportunity I didn’t have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I never had the opportunity to tell Abe everything.” Boop gulped. “But everything you said last night about Clark is how I felt about Abe.”
Hannah laid her hands atop Boop’s. “You loved him, didn’t you?”
Boop looked away. “I did.”
“Marrying Pop was the safe thing to do.”
Boop looked away and nodded. Then she met Hannah’s gaze. “It was the only thing I could do. I did love him, though. You have to know that.”
“I do. But Abe was the one who got away.”
“In a way, yes. That’s why if you love Clark the way I think you do, you owe it to yourself, to him, and to the baby, to tell him how you feel. If it doesn’t work out, or if he doesn’t feel the same way, you’ll always know you fought for love.”
“What if he won’t forgive me?”
“If he loves you like you love him, this will just be a speed bump. One of many if you’re lucky.” Boop would have forgiven Abe for leaving, for staying away, for not coming back.
Hannah kissed Boop’s cheek. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, but then we’d better get downstairs.”
“Why did your grandparents disapprove of Abe?”
“It sounds silly now, but he wasn’t Jewish. That was a huge deal back then.”
“You had just graduated high school. It wasn’t like you and Abe were going to run off and get married.” Hannah gasped. “When did you start going with Pop?”
Boop shivered inside the way she had from a cold flash during her change of life. Her friends all had hot flashes. But no, Boop became her own personal subzero freezer. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“Yes, you do. It was a whirlwind romance and then you got married.”
Boop looked at the yellow comforter, the color that had been appropriate, like mint green, for either a boy or a girl. “You know the story.”
Boop felt Hannah staring, her granddaughter knowing something without being told.
The front door slammed with a thud. “Cab’s here,” Georgia bellowed up the stairs.
“We’re not finished talking about this,” Hannah said.
“We are for now.”
On the upstairs landing outside the bedroom, Boop grabbed her cane and linked arms with Hannah. She held on to the railing as well as Hannah’s arm. Boop might have been in okay shape for eighty-four, but the stairs could be a challenge.
Left foot onto the tread, then the right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right. Hannah walked in time—patient, understanding, and strong.
She’d make a wonderful mother.
On the back patio they each hugged Doris as the cabdriver stowed her suitcases in the trunk.
“Call us when you get home,” Boop said.
Doris stuck her thumb up as an “okay” sign. Or so Boop thought.
“Go get him, Hannah,” Doris said from the back seat.
Boop, Georgia, and Hannah waved until the cab turned the corner and was out of sight. She might never see Doris again. This had always been a possibility, but it seemed more palpable now as they hit the mid-eighty mark. Even if they all stayed alive, at some point one of them would lose touch with reality or lose control of their bladder. Or worse.
“Boop?” Hannah said.
“Go home, we’ll have brunch another time.”
“Well, I won’t be here,” Georgia said. “Take a short walk with me before you go?”
“Of course,” Hannah said. “Are you sure you don’t mind me skipping brunch? I just want to get home.”
“Georgia and I will be fine, and she leaves tomorrow. That’s when I’ll call your dad and plan my move. But I’m not thinking about it until then.”
Hannah and Georgia linked arms.
The women she loved most loved one another. No matter how much longer any of them were on this earth, no one could take that away. She walked inside and started a pot of coffee. She and Georgia would rehash everything that happened with Hannah, Doris’s romantic life, and the weather forecast.
Anything to avoid talking about Georgia leaving.
A few minutes later, Boop had barely settled into the porch chair to read when Hannah ran through the kitchen door alone. “Come with me,” she yelled. “We have to go to the hospital.”
Boop shot to her feet. “Is it the baby?” It was too early. Boop had never even considered . . .
“The baby’s fine,” Hannah said, her eyes wide, her voice shaking. “It’s Georgia.”
Chapter 16
BETTY
A car turned the corner and drove down Lakeshore. Betty leaned against the house and slid her hands into the pockets of her pedal pushers. She looked down, the cordovan leather of her penny loafers buffed to a shine, her socks folded neatly. She crossed her left leg over the right and glanced south toward the lighthouse and the disbanding hordes of visitors who’d gathered to watch the sunset she and Abe had missed.
Somehow she knew it wouldn’t be Abe, yet inside her pockets she crossed her fingers, inside her head she whispered “please.” He was five minutes late.
The car, heading south, stopped and idled in
