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BARBARA

My darling,

I’m awfully sorry for the emotional display, but when there is even a remote possibility of losing someone so very precious, it’s impossible to keep all those fears bottled up. Just some of my Italian background popping out, I’m afraid… Hopefully, you can love me in spite of it.

On the drive out to Malibu after letting you go, I tried, with success but very little satisfaction, going over all the wonderful moments we’ve had together, especially since we’ve been in love.

I don’t know how I could pin down any one particular memory as being the best. Still, the one that keeps coming to mind—the most persistent mental picture—is our very first afternoon together at my downtown apartment.

The day you first told me you were mine.

Funny how those moments fly. At the time, you know that in just a while they’ll be only memories, and you try so hard to hold each fleeting second tightly so as never to let it escape, and yet it does…

And then it seems only to be a dream. We’ll never recapture that moment again, darling, but we will have more—even better!

Perhaps this summer we can manage a week or two away.

Your sister could keep Frankie, and we could get a place on Catalina Island—something on the water, second story with a balcony.

We could get a sail in at sunset and have those marvelous star-studded evenings all to ourselves.

Maybe a stroll along the boardwalk or nestle together on the beach watching the boats coming and going.

But most of all, my darling, just being there with you, planning our future together, is all I want.

To hold you close to me and know you are mine—mine alone—is my fondest dream!

I keep telling myself that eight weeks is really a very short time, that it will go quickly, and I pray it will, but as of this moment…

I can’t erase the picture of your beautiful, damning blue eyes.

I can’t forget the magical touch of your hand on mine or the tender touch of your lips, my darling.

You can calm all my fears so easily. When we are together, I am yours—your subject, your lover, anything you want me to be.

My darling, I do adore you so! I’m yours completely if you’ll only have me!

I want to thank you, honey, for every minute we’ve had together these past few months.

It’s probably the nearest thing I’ve ever known to complete happiness.

The Hi-Fi is playing “Moonlight Becomes You” in the background, and I guess I’m getting carried away, but I don’t care.

It’s you I’m in love with, and I want you to know just how much!

Remember that you belong to me, sweetheart, and that I love you and you only. Always.

Good night, my love.

—V

“ I don’t know if I can keep this up, Edie.”

Frankie charged ahead on his little pedal bike, legs pumping furiously as I guided him with the long handle. I let go, and he wobbled forward, the bell on his handlebars jingling with each unsteady turn.

Edith and I settled onto a weathered park bench beneath a sprawling jacaranda tree, its violet blossoms forming a fragrant canopy overhead. The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the grass, and a warm breeze carried the mixed scents of salt air and spring flowers.

“Of course you can keep it up,” Edith said, patting my hand. “You’ve already come this far.”

I sighed deeply, sinking into the slats of the bench. “It’s just so hard, Edie. Reading his letters, hearing his voice in my head… It makes me miss him even more. I want to be with him now , not in some distant future.”

Edith pulled a silver cigarette case from her handbag, tapped one loose, and nestled it between two fingers before striking a match. She inhaled deeply, the ember flaring, then exhaled a slow plume of smoke that curled in the breeze. “The future isn’t that distant, Babs. Two months will fly by.”

I watched Frankie loop around an enormous oak tree, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “And that’s just the beginning. Then I have to leave Frank and start my own divorce.”

“He still doesn’t know?”

I shook my head, waving away the ribbon of smoke drifting toward me.

Edith took another languid drag and tilted her head back, contemplating the sky through blissful, almost-closed eyelids. “Why not just leave Frank now? Why wait if you’re so sure?”

“Victor’s lawyer says any hint of scandal could wreck his divorce case. It will make everything look like collusion,” I said, my voice tinged with the frustration that had been building for weeks.

Edith raised an eyebrow, her hazel eyes piercing through the smoke. “So that’s what worries you—Victor’s divorce?”

I hesitated, watching Frankie attempt to navigate a small hill. His bike teetered dangerously before he put his feet down to steady himself. The park buzzed with life—children playing, birdsong, and the distant hum of afternoon traffic.

“It’s all connected,” I said finally. “If Victor can’t get free, then…”

“Then you’re stuck waiting even longer,” Edith finished for me with a sigh.

Frankie pedaled back toward us, his little chest heaving with exertion and triumph. “Mommy, Auntie, did you see me? I goed so fast!”

I ruffled his sweat-dampened hair and kissed his forehead. “You were wonderful, sweetheart. Just like a real racer.”

Edith handed Frankie a bottle of soda pop she’d been carrying in her handbag. He grabbed it like a prospector who’d just struck gold.

“Are you keeping him tonight?” I ribbed. “Seems fair since you’re getting him hopped up on sugar.”

Edith shrugged. “I’m more than happy to if you need the evening to take care of things.” She was hedging, and I knew I wouldn’t want to hear whatever was coming next.

I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankles, and leaned back into the bench, trying to prepare myself for whatever bombshell Edith was about to drop. The jacaranda blossoms above us rustled in the breeze, their perfume mingling with the acrid tinge of Edith’s cigarette.

“Babs,” she started, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “Have you thought about getting a Nevada divorce? You could bypass the California courts altogether.”

I sat up straight, my muscles tensing. “A Nevada divorce? You mean running off to Reno like some starlet in a scandal?”

“It’s not as dramatic as all that,” Edith said, rolling her eyes. “People do it all the time. You’d only have to live there for six weeks to establish residency. It’s quicker. Cleaner.”

I shook my head. “No good. First off, Frank would have to agree—not likely. And second, even if by some miracle he agrees, we could never afford to take off for six weeks.”

“Mother could cover it.”

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “She’d never. Not for me.”

“You might be surprised. She recently floated Frank the money to pay off some massive debt he owed.”

My jaw dropped. “She what ?” I cleared the rasp from my throat. “Why would she do that for Frank?”

I sank back into the bench, my thoughts spinning like a whirlpool. The warm breeze that had seemed so soothing now pricked at my skin like tiny needles. The scent of blooming flowers turned cloying, almost suffocating.

“Victor wondered how he managed to pay it off so quickly,” I murmured, half to myself.

Edith’s eyes sharpened. “What does Victor have to do with it?”

“Frank borrowed a large sum from Victor a while back to pay off some gambling debts—before I knew Victor. When he had trouble making the payments late last year, Victor was understanding—more than he needed to be. Then, out of nowhere, Frank came up with the full amount a couple of months ago and paid Victor off in one go.” I exhaled, shaking my head.

“I think he did it to get me to quit working at Victor’s firm, but… ”

Edith crushed the remains of her cigarette against the bench’s metal armrest, sparks flying before dying in the breeze. “And you didn’t think to ask Frank where the money came from?”

“I didn’t want him to know that I knew. Besides, Victor was concerned for our safety. He thought Frank had borrowed from some dangerous loan shark.” I blew out a relieved sigh. “At least that’s one mystery solved.”

“The plot thickens.” Before I could respond, Edith continued, “We can get into that drama another day. But my point is that Mother might be more willing to help than you think.”

“After the tongue-lashing she gave me the other day? Not likely. And knowing that she gave Frank the money he needed to get me to quit working proves that she’d take Frank’s side, not mine.”

“Well, she’s got to find out some time or other. Might as well be now. On your terms.”

“On my terms,” I repeated. The words tasted foreign.

Edith stood and smoothed her skirt, the fabric rustling like dry leaves.

“Babs, you know I love you and will back you up one hundred percent.” She paused, her gaze sharp enough to cut through me.

“But you need to stop waiting for other people to determine your future. If you want to leave Frank, then leave him. If you want to be with Victor, then be with him. But decide for yourself.”

I bit my lip, weighing her words. Edith had always been the bold one, the brash trailblazer, the queen of the Jazz Age. She’d made choices—some brilliant, some disastrous—but they were always hers. And she didn’t give a fig about what people around her said. Could I really do the same?

“Mommy, look!” Frankie called. He’d dismounted his bike and was attempting to climb a low-hanging branch of the oak tree. I started to rise, but Edith put a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be fine.” She raised an eyebrow for emphasis. “With the other thing too.”

My heart ached in my chest. “I hope to God you’re right.”

“Kids are more resilient than we give them credit for. He’ll be just fine. Shoot, probably better than fine if Victor’s even half the man you make him out to be.”

Finally, an easy smile graced my lips. “I’d like you to meet him, Edie. When all this nonsense is over.”

She bent down and kissed my forehead. “I thought you’d never ask.”