Shadows Gray Read Free Page B

talented.  There was a girl who looked like Rose.”  I shouldn’t say it but I do.  We don’t speak of my sister much.  If it’s possible, my dad looks even more sad and lost and I immediately regret my impulsive carelessness.
    Prue on the other hand, softens her gaze and puts the lid back on her pot.  “Baby Rose.  God bless her.  I hope she had a long, happy life.  Wish we could have gone back and seen what happened to her.  I ‘spect she had a real good life, that little one.  I’m sure old Babba found her real quick.”
    I’m sure Old Babba found her real quick. One of us says that each and every time we remember Rose out loud.  It’s like the words are our mantra, our chant, to ward off thinking about it any longer.  Old Babba was our neighbor there, an old woman who came by the house we were living in nearly every day.  We talk ourselves into believing that Old Babba would have found Rose the next morning after we had traveled on without her.  The worry of what may have happened, what could have happened, is too much to bear.  So we comfort each other with the same words and talk ourselves into accepting it as truth.
    I’m sure Old Babba found her real quick.
    Saying it doesn’t make it so.
    “Well, in any case, whether you want him to take your picture or not, Prue, he also wants to marry you for your alligator gumbo recipe.  So, there you go, you heartbreaker.”  I wink at her as I jump off the wall and dodge her large, tan hand as it reaches out to slap my head.  Prue doesn’t tolerate cheekiness.
    “You’re the one who needs to get married, little missy!”  She huffs. “You isn’t getting any younger.”  She eyes me up and down. “You isn’t getting any purtier either.”
    “Hey!  Why is everyone always trying to change me? And I’m way too young to get married in this day and age.  Besides, who would I marry?”
    “You might be a tad young in this day, but wouldn’t you rather travel with a husband in case you wake up in another time where they pick out the husband for you?”  She puts her hands on her ample hips and purses her lips.
    I roll my eyes.  “Alright already, I see your point.  I’ll get married, if you will.”
    She continues to glare at me.
    I take my life in my hands and give her a hug, squeezing hard. She squeezes back and then shoos me away impatiently.
    “Go away, child!  You are scarin’ away all my good customers.”
    “Alright, I’m going.  Dad, you want to walk with me? Dad?”
    “What’s that, dear?  Oh, no. I’m going to stay with Prue and help her with her customers.  I’ll see you later tonight.”  He smiles wistfully at me and picks at his fingernails.  It’s one of his many nervous habits; others include pulling on his eyebrows, twisting his tie, buttoning and unbuttoning the tiny white buttons on his shirt sleeves, and rolling his short beard whiskers between his fingers.
    I give him a kiss and walk back the way I came.  I won’t go to work until later this evening, so I have time to visit with Emme, my closest friend here.  Her home is a small apartment not far from the coffee shop and I know she’ll be there, probably eating a very late breakfast and reading one of her trashy romance novels, with her pretty manicured feet propped up on a table.  Emme is Lost, but she didn’t travel here with me; she’s one of another group.  I want her to come with me, and she may inadvertently since her apartment is close by.  When we travel onto another place and time, we do so when we are sleeping and anyone who is Lost and is nearby generally goes as well.  That’s why families are able to stay together for long periods of time; we sleep together at all costs.  When I work late at the coffee shop, everyone in my house stays up for me.  There are no slumber parties when you’re a little Lost girl; the daddies don’t travel for overnight work, the mommies don’t go out of town for Girl’s Night Out, and the teens