years, I had insisted I didn’t need anyone in Ohio to believe me.
You can survive believing that.
You simply don’t know how heavy it was until somebody finally lifts it off you.
Then June returned to her usual briskness.
“Now,” she said, “I’m told there is a girl at your house with my face on her. Bring her to me while these eyes still work. Not for a show. For a Saturday.”
That decided it.
Almost.
Because you already know it didn’t stay only a Saturday.
Before I tell
