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sipped their coffee and brooded over Josh's suicide. Eventually, though, they began to talk of other things, Maria asking about Shelly's life in New Orleans; Shelly catching up on some of the major events that had happened in the valley since she had left—there weren't many—change came slowly to Oak Valley—one of its charms. Maria relayed news of the marriages, births, and deaths of the various residents and mentioned the few new businesses in town before the conversation drifted to Maria's two children.
    Shelly remembered them; the boy, Nick, as an adventurous holy terror, the younger girl, Raquel, as a wide-eyed little shadow silently following Maria around as she did her work in the house.
    “I can't imagine them all grown-up,” Shelly exclaimed. “My God—they were just kids when I last saw them. And now you tell me that Raquel is working in Santa Rosa as a dental assistant and Nick has started his own business. Wow! I can hardly believe it! It doesn't seem possible that so many years have passed.”
    Maria smiled and rose to her feet, picking up the two mugs. “It does to me—especially every morning when my knees pop and creak when I get out of bed.”
    The sound of an approaching vehicle cut off Shelly's reply. “Oh, jeez! That's Mike Sawyer, and I'm not ready.” Jumping up from her chair, she said, “Would you let him in and serve him some coffee? I need to change my clothes.” She looked down at her faded blue jeans. “Josh wouldn't care what I wore, but I'd feel better if I were dressed better than this.”
    A shadow crossed Maria's face. “Are you going to spread his ashes today?”
    Shelly nodded, the primary reason why she was here crushing down on her. “Yes. Mike thought I would want to get it behind me as soon as possible. He said he didn't want me to think about it too long. He offered to come with me—he feels that I should have someone else with me.” She made a face. “I think, as the family lawyer, he wants to see for himself that I actually do scatter Josh's ashes and don't just set the urn on the top shelf of my closet.”
    “Would you mind if I came with you when you do it…your brother was very good to me and my children. He was very dear to me—and to Nick and Raquel.”
    “Of course not! And if I hadn't been so busy with my own feelings, I would have suggested it myself.” Guilt washed over her. During her years away, she and Josh had had an exclusive relationship, just the two of them, and she had forgotten that he had another life away from her, that there were other people who had cared about him, who had loved him. He had specified that his ashes were to be spread privately, but surely he wouldn't object to Maria's presence? And as for Nick and Raquel…Maria's husband, Juan, had been a mostly absent one—at least as far she knew—and for as long as she could remember, Josh had shouldered the responsibility for their well-being. Just as he had with her. Her brother, she thought with a wistful smile, had had strong patriarchal tendencies and should have had his own brood of a half dozen children or so to oversee. Instead, there had been only her. And upon occasion, Nick and Raquel. They had loved him, too.
    Impulsively, Shelly asked, “Do you think Nick and Raquel would like to be there? I have no set time to do it. Do you want to get in touch with them and ask them?”
    Maria did and consequently, it was a somber group of five who stood on Pomo Ridge overlooking the valley that afternoon. Thirty-six hundred feet below them lay the valley, still not having escaped the grip of winter, as the patchwork of colors revealed. The planted fields were a soft green, though the fallow ground still sported patches of yellow and brown—last year's dead grass and weeds, the new growth not yet tall enough to hide them. While many trees were already covered in green, the oaks that dotted the valley floor had not yet leafed out, the only sign of life on their naked branches the