Cassidy’s boss sent her to the hospital. But she didn’t go. Instead, she went home to her daughter. The drive from Tucson to Phoenix took three hours, but it didn’t matter. She made it in time for supper. She arrived with pizza and found Diane waiting with the table set. Amanda bounded off the couch and accepted a kiss and then the boxes, which she carried to the kitchen dinette. Gerard’s mother retrieved the milk from the refrigerator for Amanda and then took her seat. Diane had many good qualities. Cooking was not one of them. But she was the only other family Amanda had. Cassidy gritted her teeth at the lie. The only family that Cassidy wanted her to have. Was that selfish? “Finally,” said Diane. “I’m starving.” Diane was sixty-three, black and didn’t look a day over fifty. She had taken an early retirement from UPS five years ago when her only son had been killed in action.
