I would have stopped the memory there even without the toot of Leslie’s horn. More accurate than the way I’d recalled the same experience mere hours earlier, the truer version wasn’t quite perfect, either. Not perfect and possibly not even truer.
“So close, Archie.” I spoke to one of my rose bushes, the white one that most reminded me of him, white for purity. Like Karen Kelly, I wasn’t always a fan of red, either. “But our moment was taken from us again.”
There was no time to dwell on failed second chances, or whether or not third chances ever came about. I had Faye’s death to deal with. If I was no good to Archie in any other way, at least I could get to the bottom of that for him.
While waiting for the little white truck and the big brown one to get close enough for chatting, I chec
