He was seated at thekitchen table with a mixing bowl filled with milk and cheerios. He lookedso handsome in his baseball uniform. Despite my worries I...was genuinelyhappy for him. He finished up and kissed me goodbye as Coach waitedoutside the front door in the bus with his hand tapping gently on thehorn. His last words to me: "Don't worry Joan, Dr. Feingold is going to bethere. I'll see you at the game sweetheart. Wish me luck!" With that, hewas on his way. I felt so alone. It went deeper. Elsa's voice had aged well, like the rest of her.Mary had brought her to the garage where I was painting and introduced us."You're an artist. Newt didn't tell me that you were an artist." She walked from one unfinished painting to the next, stopping in front of the one painting I'd finished. She turned back to me and gave me a deep-dimpled smile that made me feel cherished. "Dr. Crane wrote an article about you and your art," she said. "He referred to you as a prodigy." Yes," I said."That'll. More

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