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came easily. So did the dreams of decay and death and the rapid drumming of her heart, heavy and full in her chest. Dez woke to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. The clock winked a soothing electronic blue. It was barely midnight. The party ended hours ago but the feelings that had trailed her in its last hours remained. She pushed the light covers away and sat up. A thought carried itself from her dreams, made her call Claudia’s number and croak out a plea. She left her house a half an hour later to meet her mother.

Chapter 8
     
    S e rode into the front entrance of the Coconut Grove Cemetery in first gear, coasting over the smooth pavement that wove like gray thread through acres of manicured grass and marble tombstones. The night was already damp and sweet from the drooping jasmine and honeysuckle. Dez looked over the wide expanse of green and found her mother. Claudia was right where she said she would be, on the steps of Aunt Paul’s tomb with its twin columns and blue marble vases still bright with fresh flowers. She looked tired. Her jaw split in a yawn even as Dez brought the bike to a stop and turned off its engine.
    “You going to make it, Mama?”
    “I assume that you have a good reason for getting me out of bed at this ungodly hour.” She yawned again.
    “Yes.” Dez held up a paper bag. “Snacks.”
    Claudia rolled her eyes in a most unmotherly way and huddled deeper in the blankets tucked around her. Dez twitched with guilt.
    “It’s not that cold, is it?”
    “For me it is, love. So could you please get to the point.” Dez sat down next to her mother and unfolded the contents of her paper sack—a thermos with fresh mint tea, small corned-beef sandwiches that she knew Claudia loved, and oatmeal raisin cookies. “Here.” She poured a cup of tea, then leaned back against a column as Claudia smiled her thanks before bringing the steaming brew to her lips.
    “Thank you.”
    “No, I’m . . . thank you for coming.”
    Claudia watched her daughter with alert eyes. “I guess you’re not okay, then?”
    Dez forced a smile. “No, I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s wrong.” Claudia cradled the tea in her lap.
    “I’m worried about you and I’m angry.” She bit into a cookie and chewed slowly, forcing herself to swallow although it felt like dust in her mouth.
    “That doesn’t surprise me.”
    Dez looked up at that noncommittal response. She didn’t know what else to say. Her family was never big on sensitive chats. Things just were . She came out as a lesbian by bringing a girl home when she was thirteen. There was no discussion, just acceptance—a grudging one on her father’s part—of the way things would be from that point on. Her aunt was the only person she’d been able to really talk to.
    “Don’t go home with a woman you just met,” Aunt Paul had told her over ice cream and cake, her face perfectly serious. “Unless you’re with someone else who can take care of themselves and you.”
    Paul was never fond of giving advice, but she did so then because Claudia, unsettled by her daughter’s lesbian revelation, had asked her to. Dez could never forget that day. It was the first day that her aunt took her out on the back of the motorcycle for more than a cruise around their small Coconut Grove neighborhood. They rode around for over an hour before finally stopping at a little dessert shop in Fort Lauderdale. Only now did Dez realize that her aunt had been buying herself time to find something appropriate to say to her sister’s child. At the café, Paul was charming and relaxed. She flirted with the cute waitress who promptly hopped over to take their order, making it seem like she was just taking Dez to a casual dykes’ day out.
    In Dez’s eyes, Paul had been the perfect gentlewoman in every aspect of her life, especially that day when she’d gotten the waitress’s number, eased her niece’s fears about being