“Ronnie offered, “I don’t want my life to pass me by.” Filling Ronnie’s glass again, Sissy promised, “It won’t.” “It’s already started. It’s whizzing by like a freight train.”

“You took my Lotus!” Sissy choked on her champagne, and Ronnie started looking for the exits or law enforcement with arrest warrants. Lord, what is the statute of limitations again?”

“I can’t, Caro, it’s out of my hands now. But I promise it’s temporary. I just… after all this time… I wanted us to be able to spend more than a few hours together.” He stared at his hands. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” he mumbled. “I’ve already waited ten years.”

“I don’t want to be little again. But at the same time I do. I want to be me like I was then, and me as I am now, and me like I’ll be in the future. I want to be me and nothing but me. I want to be crazy as the moon, wild as the wind and still as the earth. I want to be every single thing it’s possible to be. I’m growing and I don’t know how to grow. I’m living but I haven’t started living yet. Sometimes I simply disappear from myself. Sometimes it’s like I’m not here in the world at all and I simply don’t exist. Sometimes I can hardly think. My head just drifts, and the visions that come seem so vivid.”

“I’m not talking about them. We told you before, Smith, we wouldn’t play if her”—he pointed at Sissy—“or her”—he pointed at Ronnie—“were playing.” Mitch looked at her. “Uh…Sissy?” Sissy rounded on the coach. “I can’t believe you are still holding that against us. It’s been years!” “He was in traction for three months. A shifter! In traction!” “He was in my way!”

“Your moustache,” I continue. “It’s kind of like me wanting to be a writer. It’s part of me. I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t want to be a writer.”