“Family is everything,” Huxley said.
“Turn here,” Sara said. “I"ll show you where they"re buried.”
They were on their way back from the doctor"s office in Sacramento, a visit Sara dreaded. She was nauseous and thankful that Huxley drove.
Strong Delta winds blew. They stood at the foot of the graves. He zippered his jacket and went to stand beside a tree, to give her time alone. The tree had been a sapling the year her family died.
Sara cleaned twigs off the graves and threw them under the nearby bushes. She paused in front of her parents" headstone. Try as she might, she could only see them now as skeletons. She sighed heavily. “I hope you two made amends at the gate,” she said softly. “And that St. Peter saw fit to let you in.” She stooped down in the wet grass in front of their heads
