Slowly, I learned pieces of her past.
She had never married.
She had no children, at least none she had ever mentioned.
She had worked as a nurse when she was young, moved between several cities, and spent most of her later life alone.
When I asked why she had never settled down, she gave me a mysterious smile.
“Life doesn’t always give you the choices you expect.”
“That’s a very dramatic answer.”
“I was young once. I had my dramatic moments.”
“Were you beautiful?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Were you always this rude?”
“I’m trying to imagine you at twenty.”
“Then imagine me with better hair and a much longer list of men who regretted losing me.”
I laughed.
She looked pleased with herself.
But occasionally, I caught her watching me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Sometimes she would reach for my hand, then let go as if she had remembered something painful.
