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"Oh. He died . . . let me see now. My goodness, it's almost ten years. It isn't easy being a widow. All my old friends look the other way when they see me."

"That's awful," Raven said.

"Oh, I'm getting used to it, dear. Sometimes, I just pretend they're not there either. It's like we're all ghosts, you know. When you get old, you become a ghost. Ain't that the truth? Ain't it though?"

"I wouldn't let you be a ghost if you were my grandmother," Butterfly said.

"Well isn't that sweet? I do believe you are the most adorable child I ever saw, even sweeter than my Donna who could bring a smile to the Grinch. Isn't that what he's called?" she followed quickly, "the Grinch?"

Butterfly laughed.

"When did you see her last?" she asked.

"Oh, let's see now. I think it was four months ago. No, I guess it was more like six or seven."

"Don't they call you every day?" Crystal asked.

"Oh yes. My phone never stops ringing. The neighbors think I'm a bookie. You know what a bookie is, sweet light?" she asked Butterfly, who shook her head. "It's a man you call to place a bet on a horse. If you win, he has to pay you, but if you lose, you have to pay him. I have a brother who used to be a bookie. Now he's in an old-age home. I never get to see him."

"Why not?" Raven asked. "Won't your son or daughters take you?"

"No, they don't like him. They never did. They don't want me to see him either. They say he's the black sheep of the family and he made my mother old before her time. Mothers can get old before their time if their children are bad. Ain't that the truth? Ain't it though?"

"Did you spend last Christmas with your grandchildren?" Butterfly asked.

"Oh sure. We all went to my daughter's big house and we had a very big tree with mountains of presents, and there was a turkey that could feed an army. I made a pumpkin pie and an apple pie and Jennie made a date and nut bread and some Yorkshire pudding. It was a big feast with music and the fireplace just roaring away like in those Christmas cards, the ones that play a little tune when you open them. Oh sure, I spend all the holidays with my children and my grandchildren, birthdays and . . . birthdays." She paused as if she had forgotten what she was saying, and then she found her way again.

"But for now I live alone in my little old house, paid for years ago by my husband who was the world's best shoe salesman. Did I tell you what he used to say? He said, I saved more good soles than a minister." She laughed.

"Ain't that the truth?" Butterfly said.

Everyone smiled.

Theresa James laughed and then said, "Ain't it though?"

She talked almost the whole way to Morrisville. Raven kept swinging her eyes at me as if I could stop it or as if I were to blame Finally, she turned on the radio and then began to sing along with a song.

"You have a beautiful voice, dear," Theresa James said. "My Jennie has a nice voice, but not as nice as yours. You could sing on a street corner and collect money in a hat," she added.

Raven smiled proudly.

"I'm going to sing on a stage and be paid a lot of money for it someday," she declared.

"Oh, I'm sure you will. I'll come listen and I'll say I knew you when you were . . . when you were . . . I forgot what time I was supposed to be in the parking lot. Maybe I was early and not late," she suddenly said. "I'd feel just horrible if they waited and waited for me and I had already left. Maybe I should have stayed there and not gone off with you. Oh dear. I'm not sure."

No one said anything. I looked at Crystal in the mirror. She wound down her window to get some fresh air into the wagon and shook her head.

"Your children should take better care of you," Raven said suddenly.

"Oh, ain't that the truth? Everyone tells me that. They say, why is it one mother can take care of three children but three children can't take care of one mother? Maybe mothers are harder to take care of, huh?"

"No," Butterfly said. "They would be easy."

"You're so sweet. Your name is Janet. I almost named my Jennie, Janet. We were looking for a name that began with J. My husband said, maybe Joyce or Joan and I said, no, it just came to me we should call her Jennie after my grandmother on my mother's side. He agreed even though he never met her. If he had, he would have sold her a pair of shoes." She laughed and Butterfly joined her to say, "Ain't that the truth? Ain't it though?"

All of us were grateful when a sign indicated Morrisville was just a few more miles.

"Where do you live?" I asked Theresa. "We'll take you there."