“Then you’re breaking my heart.”
Those were practically the last words he said to me.
I got on the bus, left the city, and spent the next fifty-six years believing I would never see him again.
The sound of the telephone pulled me from my reverie.
I knew who it was before I answered.
—Nancy, it’s Raymond— said a cheerful voice. —I’ve come to see how my favorite cousin is doing.
Favorite cousin.
Raymond and I had barely spoken in thirty years.
But since I returned to the city, he started calling me almost every week.
Her voice was always kind, but her questions made me uncomfortable.
“How’s the apartment?” he asked. “The rent must be hard to pay on a pension.”
“I’m handling it.”
“Have you organized your documents? Your will? Your bank information? A woman living alone at your age needs to prepare for these things.”