when the five of us stood in the gravel drive outside Pascale’s house debating who among us should go meet Tar Baby. Both Ida and Nicole wanted to go. And I wanted to go. I wanted to see Haulover Beach again and, in particular, the Sand Dollar Motel. Katie and Gail began to beg off going and then remembered Norma’s charge to look out for me; they ultimately opted to come along as well. Other people were starting to arrive to offer their condolences. They were Del’s Cuban relatives from her father’s side. The women wore fancy black dresses and hats with veils; the men wore suits and ties. They fussed over Ida and Nicole, their voices quivering. The women wiped their noses and dabbed at their eyes. The men stood behind them, hands in their pockets, eyes toward the ground. Katie, Gail, and I waited in the car. Katie was in the front passenger seat tuning the radio to her favorite classics station. Gail was in the driver’s seat, smelling first her hands and then under her arms, her face pinched like a prune.
