They carried their cones outside.
The milk crates were gone.
The sidewalk had been repaired years earlier.
No visible marker showed where Dana fell.
People walked across the spot without knowing.
Nia stood there.
Evelyn watched her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Grandma.”
“Habit.”
Nia looked down at the sidewalk.
“For years, I thought this place was where the bad thing happened.”
Evelyn waited.
“And now?”
Nia looked at Rosa through the creamery window.
At Danielle.
At children licking ice cream beneath the awning.
“At first, I remembered her grabbing me.”
She looked at Evelyn.
“Now I remember you running.”
Evelyn’s throat tightened.
“I did not run.”
“You absolutely ran.”
“I moved urgently.”
“You almost lost your hat.”
“Never.”
“There is video.”
Evelyn stared.
Nia smiled.
“The camera is an indifferent witness.”
“You really need your own material.”
They laughed.
That winter, Evelyn’s health began declining.
Nothing sudden.
Nothing dramatic.
Age, finally collecting what it had been politely postponing.
Her heart weakened.
Walking became harder.
The famous straw hat stayed in the closet more often.
Nia was away at college when Danielle called.
“Grandma’s in the hospital.”
Nia drove home that night.
Evelyn was awake when she arrived.
“You look terrible,” the old woman said.
Nia began crying.
“That’s what you say?”
“You drove four hours.”
“Three and a half.”
“Speeding.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“You were a judge, not highway patrol.”
Evelyn smiled.
Nia sat beside her.
The room became quiet.
“You scared?”
Nia asked.
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
“You always say the truth.”
“Usually.”
“Do you think you’re going to die?”
“Eventually, yes. Statistically unavoidable.”
“Grandma.”
Evelyn looked toward her.
“I don’t know when.”
Nia held her hand.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Evelyn asked, “Do you remember the ice cream?”
Nia laughed through tears.
“Of course.”
“I wish you didn’t.”
“I don’t.”
Evelyn frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“I remember it. But it isn’t the first thing I remember about you.”
“What is?”
Nia thought.
“Your hat.”
Evelyn looked offended.