Chapter 26

"You know my mother used to ask me that," Lucy said, smiling sweetly sideways and blinking her un-sunglassed eyes in sunshine.

Jay walked beside her, falling in stride quite perfectly, loosely surrounded by Lucy's family en route to a butter exhibit.

"What did she ask you?" Jay said, grinning like a guineafowl.

Lucy got lost in his dimples.

A flying sippy cup brought her back to earth. Jay plucked it off the ground, handing it back to Lucy's nephew, who immediately bounded forward, grabbed the cup with one hand, and took firm hold of Jay's hand with the other.

Lucy grinned and sweetly said, "Who are you?"

Jay smiled at Lucy. Lucy smiled at Jay. Nephew smiled at Jay, too.

"That's what she used to ask me," Lucy warbled, speaking in rhythm with the sound of their shoes tapping onto asphalt.

Lucy's mother, listening like a hawk to their conversation, blurted out loud, "I still don't know why I did that... I'd know you anywhere."

Sometimes I don't know about that, Lucy thought, while trying to figure out how to respond without drawing her mother to tears.

Nephew took care of that.

Leaping and swinging on Jay's arm, he jabbed his hand through the air towards Lucy and shouted, "That Uncle You-SEE, Bam!!!"

Laughter ensued as Lucy explained that uncles are just like aunts, except they are unsmashable, and that bam was Nephew's version of Gram.

Jay laughed, and Nephew swung himself around to grab both Lucy and Jay's hand so he could catapult himself into flying leaps and swing between them.

"Well, tell him the story," Gram said.

Lucy related to Jay how she had suffered from nightmares as a child. Waking up crying, she would immediately tiptoe to her parent's bedroom, sidling up to her mother's side of the bed.

"Mom," she would whisper, trying to sniff back tears. "Mom, I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?"

Lucy's mother stared at her for lightyears, blinking in the darkness of the streetlight shining through the midnight window. At long last, she would lean very close to Lucy's face, as if to kiss her on the forehead. But it was not for a kiss that she leaned. She would peer into Lucy's eyes, just inches away, for another dozen lightyears. At this point, she would, without fail, slowly, distinctly say: "Who are you?"

Lucy, stunned, wouldn't know what to say. Over and over, every time the same.

Lucy's older sister and younger brother would sometimes enter the room as well, having been disturbed by Lucy's crying. Immediately their mother would call them by name. But Lucy, she never knew.

Lucy's version of the story ends here. It happened so very many times.

"But I always let you into the bed," Gram chided.

"I don't remember that part," Lucy said.

Jay stared at Lucy's face, seeing a twinge of sadness creep in below the calm exterior.

He would know her anywhere.

They came to a building: Creative Arts. Nephew let go of their hands, charging in full blast. His parents raced after him, strollers in tow.

The creative arts building entrance was nestled into a bustling corner of the Embarcadero, and shoppers proliferated. Lucy didn't care. She'd found what she was shopping for.