I blew air out of my cheeks. "He died last night."

"Oh, Kris. I'm so sorry." She touched my arm. "How are you doing?"

I shrugged. "I don't think it's sunk in yet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, thanks. I'm okay."

"If you need a ride somewhere, or someone to talk to, or maybe a meal..." her voice shrunk helplessly.

"Mmm. Thanks."

"I mean it, call me. I know what you're going through or will go through. It's not easy. You can't do it alone, and few people understand. You don't seem like you're the type to ask for help, but you have to."

My eyes watered. "Thanks," I mumbled. I had to change the subjecta"and fasta"before I broke down crying. I cleared my throat. "I came to tell you she didn't do it."

"Who? What?"

"Laurena"she didn't cause Ashley's brain damage."

I could barely hear over the whir of the blender. "But she told me she shook her. Isn't that true?"

"Probably, but it turns out she did it after Ashley had contracted bacterial meningitis."

Cecelia put her hand to her mouth and turned ashen. "How can you be sure?"

"I just came from Patrice's. Ashley had symptoms of meningitis on a Friday morning, but Patrice thought they were the flu. She and Stephen went out that night, and Lauren babysat. Ashley would have been a handfula"fussy and impossible to quieta"and that's when Lauren cracked and shook her. The next morning, Ashley had a seizure, and Patrice and Stephen rushed her to the emergency room. From there, she spent almost two weeks in the hospital, on heavy-duty antibiotics."

"Lauren didn't hurt her?" Cecelia asked, puzzled.

"No. If the shaking had been enough to hurt her, she'd have had retinal damage. But her eyesight is perfect. Her hearing's impaired, though, which is a classic result of meningitis. A specialist at Ashley's school explained all this to me."

Jack served our drinks. I took a big gulp of mine, but Cecelia didn't touch hers.

"What now?" she said, misery in her voice. "Lauren's dead. She may not have hurt Ashley, but she's still gone."

"There's nothing we can do about that," I said feebly. "But she did trust you to care for Ashley."

"I almost forgot. That's what's left. The money," she said bitterly.

"I know it doesn't do you much good, but it's what Lauren wanted, the legacy she left behind."

"What was she thinking? How am I supposed to know what to do with millions of dollars? I can barely balance my checkbook."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "Here are two women who can help. Mabel Armini is an insurance agent. She'll steer you through the red tape and make it easier for you to collect the money."

I put the note on the granite counter in front of Cecelia. "The other woman is the one Lauren visited so many times right before she died. Her name is Wendy Henderson, Dr. W. She works at Ashley's school, as a consultant to families. She and Lauren spent hours brainstorming, developing this plan for Ashley's futurea"what they'd do if money were no object."

"Which it isn't." She picked up the names and examined them, a vacant look in her eyes. "She took care of everything, didn't she? It's all set, every last bit of it, except one thing. She couldn't tell me." Cecelia fell quiet, her eyes closed.

I leaned forward and covered her folded hands with mine. "She never stopped loving you, Cecelia."

She peered at me, suspicious. "How do you know?"

I couldn't tell her I had found out in a basement rec room that smelled of cat pee, from a psychic in a bun. Instead, I said, "I just do."

Eyes filled with sadness, she looked past me and said awkwardly, "I'd better get back to work."

"Same here."

Neither of us moved.

"I guess it's over," she said, casting a glance at me.

"Mmm." I shifted on my stool and studied the counter.

"I'm going to miss our visits."

I lifted my head and met her sad gaze. "I know."

"You could always start shopping here."

"That might be too shocking for my body."

She smiled. "Don't worry, we have junk food, too. On your first trip, I could escort you personally and put unhealthy items in your basket."

In spite of my aching heart, I grinned.

"Even chips and dip," she promised. "I know where the good stuff is."

I laughed. "I'll think about it."

In a more serious tone, she added, "If you ever need to talk, about your brother or anything else, please call me."

"Thanks. You too. About Lauren or life or whatever. Good luck with Ashley. She's a fantastic kid. I'm going to be seeing her every week at Children First."

"You're volunteering there?" she asked, excited.

I nodded.

"Great. Maybe we'll see each other."

Reluctantly, I stood up. She rose and hugged me tightly.

"Lauren never had a chance, did she, Kris?" Cecelia whispered as I held her.

I sighed. "Not much of one."

She pulled back and said fiercely. "I miss her."

"I do, too," I said, fighting back tears. "More than you could know."

Leaving Choices, I realized the longest day of my life had almost drawn to a close.

I could summon barely enough energy to drive to Destiny's.

As I pulled in front of her house, my lover rushed from the porch, blindfolded me, and led me through the sideyard.

"Where are we going?" I asked, too exhausted for surprise.

"Up to the third floor apartment."

"Isn't Suzanne home?"

"Not anymore. C'mon, I've got something to show you."

"Is it bad?"

"Not necessarily."

My exasperation took hold. "What?" I reached to pull down the blindfold, but Destiny caught my arm.

"Follow me."

"Oh, God, it's mice, isn't it? Please don't make me kill them."

"No."

"Termites?"

"In Denver, in a brick house? Please, Kris, you're so dramatic."

Wearily, I protested, "A suicide? Did Suzanne kill herself up there? I couldn't take another one, you know."

"Keep walking, we're almost there."

"This is worse than the Hanging Lake hike," I muttered.

At the top of the stairs, I heard the door creak. We walked into the apartment, hand in hand, and when at last Destiny allowed me to look around, I almost toppled over.

Destiny steadied me with a firm hand as I blinked hard and tried to absorb it all.

The vast expanse of the sunlit space nearly blinded me. Gleaming hardwood floors, fresh paint, brand-new wooden blinds.

All that shocked me. But the flowers everywherea"more than I'd ever seen outside a florist'sa"and the enormous banner that spelled out, "I love you, Kris" dazed me.

I leaned into the wall and slid to the floor. "What's going on? Where's Suzanne?"

Destiny knelt beside me and stroked my hair. "She left. She moved out the beginning of last week. I wanted to surprise you."

"With what?"

"Our new home. What do you think?"

"Us? Live here? Together?" I started to cry.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "It's not on the ground floor, and it doesn't have history for either of us. It's a fresh start."

"I can't believe you did this. No wonder you came up here all the time."

She laughed. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed. I was really worried last week when you came over early. You almost bumped into the woman I hired to wax the hardwood floors. She cleans the Lesbian Community Center for us when she needs extra cash." Destiny shot me a sideways look. "You didn't think Suzanne and I were up to something, did you?"

"No," I lied, dismissing the thought with a wave of my hand. "Never."

"Do you like it?"

I scrunched up my face, deep in thought. "Could we install a bunch of air conditioners? You know how hot I get."

"I already ordered three. They'll be here next week."

"And we'd have to hire movers. We could never get all our junk up those stairs by ourselves," I sniffled.

"Not a problem."

"Plus, I'd probably need leg massages at the end of every day, from all the climbing."

She dazzled me with her smile. "I'll give you one now, if you'd like."

We began to kiss but I pulled away. "I don't deserve someone like you."

"Yes, Kris, you do." she said, her smile fading into seriousness. "It's okay to be happy."

I tackled her with a hug. "What about a commitment ceremony? I'll never survive all the wedding stuff."

Destiny silenced me with another kiss. "This is the beginning of our ceremony," she said, drawing me into her.

I had to admit it. My heart felt a little less broken.

end.