Narrators and Friends
In early August 1995 my partner and I were reveling in our freedom. We were both beginning our sabbaticals and planning a trip from our home in Boone, North Carolina, to the Santa Fe Indian Art Market held the third weekend in August every year. Two days before we were to leave, I received a letter from my friend Kay, who lives in Sarasota, Florida. She and my mother had been a couple when I was in kindergarten and first grade in Tulsa in 1959-1960, and I had remade her acquaintance in 1980. I was accustomed to a Christmas letter from her each year, but what could this summer letter be about?