Lily's Crossing by Patricia Reilly Giff Page B

shook her head. “But you’re right, Lily, things won’t be the same. We’ll all be changed, all of us who lived through this.”
    “But Poppy said it would be the same.”
    “I know.” Gram patted her shoulder. “He wanted it to be the same for you.”
    Lily took a breath. She thought of Margaret not remembering Eddie’s face. Lily could see his face so clearly, even without the picture.
    And Eddie’s picture was standing there on the Dillons’ living room table. It would take her only five minutes to wrap it and bring it down to the post office this morning. If only . . .
    Suppose she told Gram? Gram was sitting there next to her, twisting her long hair with both hands, redoing her bun, looking worried. She could tell Gram she’d never go into the Dillons’ house again if she could just get the picture to Margaret.
    Gram was standing up now, picking yesterday’s clothes up off the floor. “Just a mess in here.”
    Lily blew breath through her mouth. “I need some money.”
    Gram blinked. “How did you get from Ruth to needing money?”
    “I lost my tan purse,” Lily said slowly.
    “Oh, Lily.” Gram shook her head. “If only you’d think sometimes . . .”
    Lily slung her legs out from under her quilt. “Never mind.”
    “How much?”
    Lily twitched one shoulder. “I don’t remember.”
    She went into the bathroom and yanked on her bathing suit. It was still damp from yesterday. Gram was saying something, but Lily turned on the water, blasting it into the sink, and began to brush her teeth.
    When she came out, her breakfast was on the table, juice, and Rice Krispies with bananas and strawberries sliced on top, a face with a smiling mouth. And Albert was sitting there, talking to Gram.
    Lily ran her fingers through her hair to comb it, then sat across from him. She reached for her juice and took a gulp.
    They were talking about music again. Albert was telling Gram that his violin was still in Hungary. “In a blue case,” he said, “maybe in my bedroom where I put it.” He grinned at Lily. “If I had it here we could play duets.”
    Gram was laughing, and Lily frowned, but then she laughed too. She could just see skinny Albert playing the violin, playing some wonderful Hungarian thing, and she’d be doing the C scale from one end of the piano to the other.
    Gram patted her head. “I love to hear you laugh, Lily.”
    And Albert nodded. “She is like my sister, Ruth.”
    Gram was on her way out. “Going to catch a fish,” she said. “I’m not going to do another thing all day but spend time in that rowboat and feel that ocean underneath me.”
    Then she was gone. Lily watched her through the screen, going down to the rowboat, her fishing rod in one hand. And then she noticed Albert was wearing his bathing suit and one of Mr. Orban’s old shirts. She knew he was hoping she’d teach him to swim this morning.
    Lily stood up, finishing her cereal in a couple of spoonfuls. “I still need the money for Margaret,” she said. “I thought of telling Gram . . .”
    Albert nodded. “I was thinking about that too,” he said. “I have the money.”
    “No.” She shook her head. “Fifty dollars is so much . . . too much.”
    “From my aunt,” Albert said. “I asked her for money.”
    “Mrs. Orban? You told Mrs. Orban?”
    “No. I just asked, ‘Could I have . . . ,’ and before I could finish she said I should have some money to spend for myself. She said she never thought of it.” Albert was pulling money out. A dollar in one pocket. Fifty cents in another.
    “I’m so glad.” She felt like hugging him. She reached for his hand, warm and dry, and he squeezed back.
    They spent the next half hour taking care of the picture. They cut up a paper bag and found cardboard and a ball of string in Mrs. Dillon’s closet.
    Paprika loved it, the noise and the crinkling of paper as they wrapped the picture in layers of cardboard, and the ball of string to bat across the kitchen