"I bet if I looked at those old photos of you and your father again, I'd remember every detail!" Sophia said.
Dorothy reached across the airplane seat and squeezed her mother's hand, grateful to see her in such good spirits. This trip really had been just what she needed. "Ma, I don't want you to be disappointed if everything doesn't come back all at once. The memory can be a tricky thing. Don't try to force it."
Sophia waved her hand dismissively. "Dorothy, I'm not kidding. I know I'll remember. You know how I know?"
"How, Ma?" Dorothy asked.
"Because your father told me. I saw him."
"You didn't see Pop. You probably just fell asleep for a minute on the bed and had a dream about him, that's all."
"No, Pussycat, I saw your father," Sophia said emphatically. "I told him to stay away from Gladys, his old girlfriend, who's up there in heaven with him." She gestured above.
"You were in your old bedroom, and of course you remembered Pop. I could practically see him when we walked into that apartment. That place brought back a lot of memories for me, too."
"This wasn't a dream or a memory. He told me I've lost my spunk. But he helped me remember that it's still there. That's how I know everything's going to be OK."
"Well, it doesn't matter what happened," Dorothy said, realizing her mother wasn't giving up. "The important thing is that you're back to your old self." She put an arm around Sophia, giving her a one-armed hug as best she could in these cramped seats.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Sophia asked. "But you know Pop's up there, right?" She pointed above them once again.
"I guess," Dorothy said, shrugging. She'd been raised Catholic, but the afterlife was unknown. It wasn't something she gave much thought to.
"He said everyone thinks heaven is right above, but it's more to the left. He's there, and when the time comes, I'm going to join him."
Those words stopped Dorothy's heart. "Ma, you are not joining Pop. You're going to stay with me and Rose and Blanche, do you hear me?"
"Pussycat, I'm not saying tomorrow. But it is gonna happen. The important thing is, I'm going to do everything I can to get those memories back. I want to remember every day I spent with you, and Gloria and Phil. Well, maybe not Phil."
"OK," Dorothy said. "But no more talk about you joining Pop. I want you here for as long as possible."
"I plan to be," Sophia assured her. "You ain't getting rid of me that easily. I survived one stroke already. It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to kill me!"
This was the side of her mother Dorothy loved. The tough, indestructible side. She knew time had taken a toll on Sophia. That was obvious just by looking at her. At 80-plus years old, there was no telling how long Sophia would be around. But Dorothy knew her mother was strong.
Sophia turned her attention to the window. It was clear she was lost in her own thoughts. Dorothy pulled out the book she'd been reading. Soon, the conversation was far from her mind as she read. Before either of them realized, the plane had landed back in Miami.
They got off the plane, and there stood Blanche and Rose, waiting for them. Hugs were quickly exchanged. Though the two had only been gone for a couple of days, it was as if they'd been apart for far longer.
"So, how was New York? Did you see the Big Apple?" Rose asked.
"No, Rose. And for the last time, it's not an actual apple!" Dorothy said, exasperated.
"Well, then, why do they call it the Big Apple?"
"I saw our old apartment!" Sophia interrupted, not wanting to get into another pointless conversation with Rose.
"Oh, did they let you in?" Blanche asked.
"Yeah," Sophia said. "I saw mine and Sal's bedroom. And there it was, the carving, just like I said it was! Sal loves Sophia."
"Oh," Rose said, sighing. "That's so romantic. Did it bring back memories?"
Dorothy nodded. "It certainly did for me. I felt like a little girl the minute we walked in."
"What about Sophia?" Rose asked.
"I got more than memories. I saw my Sal again!"
"You saw your late husband?" Blanche asked, feeling nearly as confused as Rose normally did.
"Yeah. He said I've lost my spunk, but it turns out it was in here all along." Sophia pointed to her chest.
"You mean you had a dream about Pop," Dorothy gently corrected her mother.
"I'm telling you, your father was there!" Sophia said.
Blanche could see an argument brewing between mother and daughter. "Come on, let's get you two home so you can unpack and get settled in."
As the four of them rode back to the house they shared, Dorothy thought about her parents. They had certainly had their share of fights. But they never gave up on each other. That was something Dorothy knew she could never say about her and Stan. Her parents had the strongest marriage of anyone she knew. It had survived war, a teenage pregnancy and a cross-dressing son. So maybe it could have even survived death. How could Dorothy know for sure? She glanced out the window as Blanche drove, and noticed the stars above. She wasn't positive, but she thought she saw one twinkling. Somehow, she knew that her father was watching.
The End