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"I hope he's not putting on an act for me," I said immediately.

"You know him well enough by now to know that's not true, Alice."

"Are you really getting closer to having your own child?"

"We'll see," she said, shifting her gaze away as a way of telling me the topic was off the table. "I'd better go help him. We get a little play before we close this place, some latecomers, stragglers. Relax, finish eating," she said.

Missy had left, but Cassie remained, reading one of her textbooks and handling the occasional customers. Mrs. Mallen went home to do something but was returning to close, as usual. I remembered that during the summer hours especially the cafe really wasn't a bar hangout after dinner until the weekends, when there was music. I debated going over to talk more with Cassie and then thought she probably cherished the opportunities to grab some reading. It woul

dn't be fair to steal some of that time for chitchat.

While I sat there, I gazed around the cafe, noting the changes _and picturing where anything I painted could be hung. I was--perhaps because I felt so welcomed here--suddenly very eager to get back to my art and hoped my grandfather wouldn't forget to bring my things along when they came. I would finally make some use of that studio behind Aunt Zipporah and Uncle Tyler's house. Thinking about all that brought me to the phone.

"I'll call the Doral House," I told Aunt Zipporah, "and let them know I'm settled in."

"Good idea," she said.

My fingers trembled as I grasped the receiver and began the call. My grandmother answered so quickly that I could imagine she had been sitting on top of the phone, waiting.

"Hi, Grandma," I said when she answered. "We're here, and guess what?"

"What?"

"I had to get right to work. The cafe was packed and the waitresses needed help. I made forty-two dollars in tips."

"That's wonderful, Alice," she said, but not with a great deal of enthusiasm. I knew what she was waiting to hear. "How's Tyler?"

"He's great, as usual. They expanded the restaurant. I had forgotten."

"Oh, right."

"We just had a serious talk about it all, Grandma. Uncle Tyler isn't concerned about my staying with them and attending school here."

"Is that so?" she asked. There was

disappointment in her voice, but also a sense of fatigue. I couldn't blame her for being tired of all my crises. It was time she and my grandfather enjoyed their lives again.

"Are you and Grandpa coming up next weekend?"

"That was the plan, yes."

"Well, you can tell him I would appreciate my art materials after all," I said. "I know I sounded unsure, but I'm not anymore."

"Really?"

"I don't know if I'll do anything good enough for it, but there is plenty of open space on the cafe walls for pictures."

"That will be something. I'm happy for you, Alice. Really, I am," she said.

"Thank you, Grandma. Where's Grandpa?"

"He went down to the grocery for me. We need some milk for the morning. Do you want him to call you when he comes home?"

"No, it's fine. Tell him hi and . . ." "Yes?"

"That's all. I'll talk to you in a few days," I said. "Bye."

"Okay, Alice. Take care of yourself," she said, her voice drifting off, as if the phone line had been dying slowly or as if she'd been on a ship leaving port.