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  Jane shook her head. “You are exactly why I’m not going out with the officer.”

  “What about you, Jane?” The voice startled her out of her memories and she looked up from her tray of green beans and chicken at the woman speaking. Jane was at the home. The old women were scheming about the new resident. “Why don’t you talk to him?” the woman prodded.

  “No, no. That’s all right,” Jane said. “I’m not interested.”

  Cassidy

  When Cassidy and Noeli got back to the farm, Paloma and her hatchback Versa were gone. They stayed gone through the afternoon and into the evening. When the sun started to set and Cassidy’s stomach started to growl, she scavenged through the kitchen and pantry but came up with only the most basic of ingredients—grains, flours, vegetables, powdered seitan. It was a kind of magic, how Paloma could turn these into meals and Cassidy hadn’t learned it. Cassidy’s magic was the microwave, sometimes the toaster oven, the frozen foods section at Trader Joe’s. Until now, she hadn’t realized how reliant she’d become on conveniences.

  As a child, Cassidy had sometimes cooked with Paloma, and she remembered how her mom had eyeballed the ingredients. She wasn’t even sure there were measuring cups in the house. In the dorm kitchen years later, when Cassidy tried to follow a recipe for broccoli casserole, she didn’t stress too much about measuring perfectly. A little more or less couldn’t make that much of a difference, she figured, and imagined the picture, captioned “Domestic dorm life,” she’d take of the finished product. The whole thing was a mess, bubbling over the sides of the pan and crusting over in the bottom of the oven. When Cassidy stubbornly decided to eat it anyway—she wasn’t going to waste the fourteen dollars she’d spent on ingredients—all she could think was that it tasted like farts.

  “Do you want to go back to Stone Tower for dinner?” Cassidy asked, waking Noeli, who was napping on the couch.

  “Yeah, why not? I want to try those vegan tacos.”

  “Or you could try . . . something that isn’t the tacos,” Cassidy said.

  As they made their way down the driveway, they had to pull over onto the grass to make way for Paloma, who was returning. Paloma raised her hand in a hesitant wave as they passed—a small peace offering. Cassidy returned it.

  “We shouldn’t stay out too late,” Noeli said as they turned onto the road. “Our flight’s at one tomorrow.”

  “Oh shit, that’s tomorrow?” How had she lost track of the days? They felt different here—longer and shorter at the same time. Longer, without filling every moment with work or her phone or binging shows. Shorter in that she could see the time passing in front of her, see the fleetingness of it, and see how little she’d spent with Grandma Jane. On the one hand, she wanted to get out of here and back to her normal routine. Though she hated to admit it, she missed the sense of safety and affirmation her show gave her, how she knew she would log on each evening and be flooded with dopamine. On the other, the knowledge that everything would be different the next time she returned made her feel slightly panicked. What would it be like, visiting her mom on her pseudo-commune? What would it be like when Grandma Jane . . . She just wouldn’t visit. Once Grandma Jane was gone, she’d have no reason to ever return.

  “Hey, could you wait to eat? I want to go see Grandma Jane,” she said.

  “Of course,” Noeli said. “I’ll give you some time alone with her. I have an audiobook out from the library that I need to finish anyway.”

  The parking lot at Serenity was so dark and so empty that Cassidy wondered if visiting hours were over. The door said eight, though, so she entered the little receiving area. There was the Softsoap smell, there was the second glass door, there were the names scrawled in the little notebook. Cassidy felt a pang as she saw that only a few names had been scribbled between her current signature and the one from a couple days ago.

  The TV in the lobby was still on the Hallmark Channel and two old women stared from recliners as another in a wheelchair slept, her head resting against her chest and her hands folded palms up in her lap. At nighttime like this, the home reminded Cassidy of Christmas Eve—that peaceful twinkling warmth. Some of these people might not make it till Christmas.

  Passing each doorway in the dark hall, Cassidy made out small, sad sounds—a toilet flush, a man repeatedly clearing his throat, a recording of an evangelical preacher declaring that in Jesus, there was no death. Through an open door on the right Cassidy saw a nurse in pink scrubs perched on the edge of a bed, feeding a woman in a wheelchair. The woman’s toothless mouth was open like a baby’s, and when the nurse touched the silver spoon of yellow pudding to her lips, they trembled around it, trying to take it in. The nurse tipped the spoon up to deliver its contents and then dabbed the woman’s mouth with a small napkin. The woman’s tongue flicked in and out, trying to taste more.

  Grandma Jane’s door was slightly ajar, and when Cassidy knocked, it opened farther. “Hi, Grandma!” she called loudly. She tiptoed two steps in, remaining behind the door. There was no answer. “Grandma Jane?” Cassidy said again. Met with more silence, Cassidy stepped around the door and into the room. The hula girl, the daisy, and the Halloween cat were still in the darkness.

  Grandma Jane lay on the small bed, facing the wall in the fetal position. The shape of her body was visible beneath the thin synthetic quilt. She looked like a baby.

  Cassidy coughed and Jane stirred, opened her eyes, and rolled onto her back. “Oh, hello, darling,” she said, sounding tired and weak but not particularly embarrassed. Cassidy retracted into herself, imagining how it must feel to get so old that it was normal for people to see you sleeping like that, at your most vulnerable. People thought getting naked on camera made her vulnerable, but Cassidy didn’t feel weak when she was exposed like that. Naked wasn’t weak. Naked, on your own terms, feeling people’s need for you through the screen, was powerful. Alone, sleeping, feeble—that was weak. Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed next to Jane, who she remembered walking blocks around town, who brushed off hardship with a wave of her hand. That was the real Grandma Jane, she reminded herself.

  “We’re going back to California tomorrow,” she said.

  “Oh goodness. Already? Safe travels.”

  Would she remember that Cassidy had visited?

  “Daddy’s memorial was nice.”

  “Mmhmm. Yes, it was.”

  Did she remember it?

  “There’s a new place downtown. We’re going to have dinner there.”

  “That sounds lovely. Have fun, dear,” Grandma Jane said.

  Would the rest of Cassidy and Grandma Jane’s conversations be small talk? Would they ever talk about anything significant again?

  “Why didn’t you ever leave?” Cassidy asked, startling herself. “Why didn’t you get out of Buckhannon?”

  Grandma Jane sighed. “Oh, darling, I tried. I did.”

  “What happened?”

  “I went to Washington, during the war.” Jane’s eyes stared up at the acoustical ceiling.

  “What did you do there?”

  “I worked for the FBI. Ding and I were Government Girls. You should have seen us.”

  “Did you lose the job when the men came back from the war?” Cassidy had heard about how the Rosie the Riveters had been kicked back to the kitchen with little more than a thank-you. Women’s labor, as usual, was relied on but never valued.

  “I left before that,” Jane said, shaking her head against her too plump pillow. “I got into some trouble and had to come home.”

  Cassidy took Jane’s hand. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Oh, Cassidy. I don’t like to talk about it much. The war was not a pleasant time in my life. My brothers were all abroad. Everyone was scared.” Her eyes were clear now and she looked back at Cassidy. “Sometimes you just have to make the best of things.”

  But this was intolerable. Her grandma di
dn’t have to tell her everything. It was clear she didn’t want to. But Cassidy couldn’t stand the injustice of it, whatever it was. Grandma Jane had been making the best of things her whole life. She couldn’t end her story like this.

  “Come with me, Grandma, back to California. We can find a home for you out there or you can stay with me. That would be even better.” Cassidy was talking quickly now, without thinking.

  Jane smiled and closed her eyes. “I’m too old to go anywhere, darling. You live your life, you hear me?”

  Cassidy looked up to avoid crying. She wanted to tell her grandma that nothing she could have done would shock her, that nothing she had done could make her deserve this. She wished she could tell her about camming, about loving women, but she worried that instead of making Grandma Jane feel better, it would make her more ashamed, like her granddaughter had been a disgrace too.

  “I don’t know if we’ll be able to come over before we go back to Pittsburgh. I’ll hug you goodbye now.”

  Cassidy leaned into Grandma Jane’s chest and breathed her in. When she lifted herself again, she had to wipe her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, darling,” Grandma Jane said. She struggled to sitting and propped her pillow against the wall behind her, the quilt bunched in her lap.

  “Okay.” Cassidy nodded, wiping her eyes to catch the tears before they emerged.

  How could she leave? How could she handle another phone call?

  “Don’t cry or you’ll make me cry.” Grandma Jane laughed, dabbing at her own eyes.

  Cassidy laughed too and dried her eyes for real. “I love you, Grandma Jane,” she said.

  “I love you too, Cassidy. Buh-bye.”

  “I love you,” Cassidy called again as she walked toward the door. She pulled Ken’s coat around herself, but she already felt him seeping out of the seams. She was walking away from the only thing she had left of her father.

  “Bye bye, I love you,” Jane called out, as if she were saying it first, waiting for a response.

  “Bye, I love you.” Cassidy walked out the door before her grandma could respond. It was like this on the phone, too—impossible to get in a final “I love you.” Jane would just keep going.

  Cassidy rushed past the rooms, not wanting to be burdened further by other people’s tragedies. She dashed past the front desk, avoiding eye contact with the sleepy nurse behind it.

  Outside, the cold air made her ears ache.

  She hurried to the SUV, climbed in, and buckled her seat belt, rubbing her arms and letting the heat penetrate her skin.

  “Are you okay?” Noeli asked as she turned off her audiobook.

  Cassidy rubbed her hands together and blew into them, her breath forming a hot mist.

  She looked right at her friend. “What if I stayed?”

  Jane

  Cassidy’s visit had soothed Jane’s irritation at the memory of the officer. Oh, Cassidy. It was true Jane had been given much in this life, but life had also taken so much away. She tried to focus on sweet Cassidy—that she was here in Buckhannon for a little while longer—but Jane could not hold the knowledge long. Her mind kept returning to 1944.

  “Finally!” Ding had said as she hung her freshly washed hose over the side of the bathtub. “Working for the navy and this is the first time I’ve managed a date with a seaman.”

  “You’ve really made it,” Jane said, scrubbing her own undergarments at the sink, the soap bubbling on her fingers.

  “I had to wait for a fresh face, is all. Someone those dad-blamed WAVES hadn’t corrupted. Oh!” Ding put her hands on her hips. “Did I tell you he’s a lieutenant?”

  “But it’s more important that he completes your collection.”

  Ding ignored her and retrieved her trinkets from the ring dish by the sink—her air force and army pins, and the recently acquired tie clip from her marine. “Billy Grable,” she said, staring at it fondly before putting them all in her pocketbook. “It’s good luck to keep them with me, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it.” Despite using lukewarm water to wash their delicates, the bathroom was stifling, all the moisture hanging in the air like a heavy blanket.

  Ding shrugged. “You know I’m susceptible to uniforms.”

  The girls got dressed and Jane helped Ding with her hair until the doorbell buzzed.

  “Come meet him, at least. You’ll see. He’s heaven-sent!”

  Jane trudged down the stairs after her cousin and stood behind her as she opened the door.

  Standing coolly on the doorstep was the officer. Her officer.

  “You!” Jane yelled over Ding’s shoulder. “Of course it’s you.” Disdain fell over her face like a storm cloud.

  “You,” the man repeated, his mouth agape.

  Ding was oblivious. “Jane, this is Owen. Owen, this is Jane.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you.” Owen extended his hand, looking right past Ding.

  “I thought you weren’t interested in the dating game,” Jane said, leaving his hand hanging in the air and placing her own on her hips.

  “You left me so lonely, what choice did I have?” Owen grinned his puckish grin. Jane crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh!” Ding exclaimed. “This is . . .”

  Jane nodded and Owen smirked.

  “What a coincidence!” Ding said. “You have to come, Jane. Come out with us!”

  “Yes, Jane. Come out with us,” Owen said, still looking only at her. Jane’s heart fluttered, but she stood firm.

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “Have it your way.” Ding took a step out the door, and Owen moved aside to let her pass.

  “Please, join us,” he insisted. Jane glared at him. Though it required effort to stay angry as she took in his sleek gray suit and matching fedora, Jane was determined.

  Ding flounced out to Owen’s waiting Highlander, but Owen lingered, giving Jane a last, pleading glance with his oceany eyes. Jane stayed planted in the doorway until finally Owen turned, jogging down the steps to open the car door for Ding. Jane closed the door behind him with a slam just late enough to see Owen’s longing look in her direction. She tried not to imagine how good the breeze would feel in his convertible.

  They were two good-for-nothings, anyway.

  When Ding returned hours later, tromping up the stairs, Jane pretended to sleep. She had no interest in seeing whatever souvenir Ding had weaseled from Owen.

  When the Baby Ben alarm clock rang the next morning and Ding continued to snore, Jane huffed but did not wake her. Let her be late for work, she thought.

  When they returned from work that evening, and Jane noticed the dark circles ringing her cousin’s eyes, Jane said nothing. Ding deserved to be exhausted.

  It wasn’t that Jane was mad at Ding, per se; she just saw no good reason to speak to her.

  Ding was a grown woman with a war job and it was about time she stopped depending on Jane and started taking responsibility.

  Ding, in turn, huffed her way around the house. She did not take kindly to being ignored. The girls moved in their own circles around the city, limiting their intimacy to the hours they spent in their shared room, breathing each other’s breath in deep slumber.

  One night, as Ding snored away, Jane lay awake and pouted. Ding couldn’t even let her keep the idea of Owen. She hadn’t even wanted to go out with him. She’d just wanted a nice dream that was all her own.

  How silly she’d been to pout. Life hadn’t taken those last carefree times with Ding from her. She’d taken those herself. Cassidy, Jane reminded herself. She’d been thinking of Cassidy. But she couldn’t remember why. Still, the image of her granddaughter comforted her.

  Cassidy

  Cassidy hadn’t thought the words through, let alone the idea. It came rushing up within her and then out of her mouth. “What if
I moved here and lived on the farm after all? I wouldn’t have to pay rent, so I’d have almost no expenses. That’s almost two thousand dollars a month I wouldn’t have to spend. I could still cam, but there’d be less pressure.”

  “What would you do with your apartment?” Noeli asked. “Sublet it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you could help me find someone?”

  “I guess I’ll return the rental car myself.” Noeli looked at Cassidy with skepticism and concern.

  Cassidy’s heart was beating fast. Was she actually considering this? “Yeah, that would work.”

  “Should you think about it for a while?”

  But Cassidy was surprised at how sure she felt, especially since a day ago the thought would have made her snort. The idea of staying in West Virginia had seemed absurd until it came out of her mouth. This wasn’t high school. She could choose who she wanted to be around. She’d stick to Simon and Grandma Jane. “No. I’m staying. At least for now.”

  She pictured the palm trees, the warm weather. If she went back, she would chicken out. Noeli frowned and Cassidy tried not to think about how she’d be leaving her, too.

  “I’m going back in to tell my grandma.” The excitement tingled in her limbs.

  “I’ll come in.” Noeli took the keys out of the ignition.

  The SUV’s doors clicked open. The salt on the sidewalk crunched under their feet as they hurried back into the building, into the entryway and the heat. They smelled the Softsoap. They skipped the sign-in. Cassidy flew down the hall so fast, she didn’t hear a single sound other than her wet Chucks slipping on the tile. She knocked on the door but didn’t hesitate behind it.

  “I have news,” she said as they burst in, their presence filling the small room. Jane was in her chair now, reading a Deepak Chopra book.

  “What is it, dear?” she asked, looking up.

  “I’m going to stay. In West Virginia, on the farm.”

  “Oh, how wonderful, darling!” Jane said, rising slowly and with effort. Cassidy rushed to close the space between them and gave her a long hug.