Evangaline was doing interesting things.
They’d had a feeling she would, of course. She was strong, had always been strong, hadn’t fought the spark, the way some of them do, did, and she was still young. It helped to come into it young.
Rosaria approved. Asta had been an engaging woman, certainly, but she hadn’t been that flexible. They’d felt, not that any of them would have said so, that she was filling the time, filling the place until her successor was ready. And now that Evangaline was there, well…
…she was shaking things up a bit.
She was asking about boys. Rosaria understood, especially with Stone showing more and more of the spark, much as he was trying to hide it. But when she started asking about the boys, they started running into questions that they weren’t certain they wanted to answer. Especially her generation. Especially Ramona.
They would have to tell her eventually. So Rosaria volunteered – the girl trusted her, and she trusted the girl. She visited Evangaline one Sunday, and invited the girl to go driving.
“We’re going visiting,” she told Eva, as she directed her down the old backroads. She got lost, sometimes, on the new highways. The old roads were safer.
“Family? Eva asked. “I thought we’d covered every cousin in a day’s drive by now.”
“We have,” Rosaria assured her, “and we’ll save those further out for next summer, or let them come to us. No, today,” she sighed, “we’re going to visit an Uncle.”
Eva stopped the car. “An Uncle.”
“An Uncle,” Rosaria agreed. “Or someone that could have been. Ramona’s son Willard.”
Eva started the car again. “Ramona only has a daughter, Aunt Rosaria. She had a son?”
“She did,” Rosaria sighed, “but he left the family.”
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