I spoke to Anna,” she said. “She said I could give you her number.”
I gripped the phone. “Where is she?”
“Pittsburgh. She moved there years ago to be near her sister.”
Diane paused.
“Whatever you have to say, Walter, be honest with her.”
I didn’t understand the warning until later.
When Anna answered, I recognized her voice beneath the years.
“It’s Walt.”
There was a long silence.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Diane told me you might call.”
I explained about Carol. The illness, the funeral, the request I couldn’t make sense of.
“Could I come see you?” I asked.
For a moment, I thought she would refuse.
Then she said, “Saturday afternoon.”
PART 3: What My Mother Had Done
I drove to Pittsburgh with Carol’s wedding ring in my jacket pocket.
At a rest stop, I took it out and held it in my
