Dierkz said then, inviting Anna to take up where she'd been fluttered to silence some minutes before. Anna was more than happy to do things on Dottie's terms. Never having had children, she could not fathom the sort of pain the woman must be suffering. She knew only the loss of a husband, a father, and several very good cats. If it was worse than that, she was impressed that Dottie remained upright and coherent. "Frieda," she began again, as asked. Monitoring Dottie from the corner of her eye as she talked, trying to gauge what to tell, what to omit, whether to go on or turn the subject to other matters, Anna told her of the accident, the rescue, the second and fatal fall. She left out the part where her knee crushed the life from Frieda. Maybe she did it to protect Dottie, maybe to protect herself. There was nothing in it but gratuitous angst for all concerned. Mostly she focused on Frieda's love for the underground, her courage, her humor, and how deeply admired she was by her fellows.
