Epilogue
April had grown sunny and mild after a cold and rainy March. The sun shone bright in the cloudless sky. Birds sang, and the flowers in the planters that lined the sidewalk running by the grounds of Myer College were beginning to put forth their blooms. I walked down Main Street past storefronts, past the Painted Lotus Gallery where a sign advertised a show of new works by the creator of “American c*****e,” past a small yarn store that was having a 2 for 1 sale, and past the used book store. I had gotten in sight of The Perfect Cup when I saw Helen Parr seated at a table.
I took two more steps, then stopped. She wasn’t alone.
Seated with her was Anna.
I picked up my pace again and walked up to the table. I smiled. “Well hello.”
They looked up at me. “You’re late,” Helen said
