So I went up for the Fourth of July. Nobody suggested me spending the night, so I left right after the fireworks and made the late night drive back to Tucson." So how did that go?" Well ... largely okay, I guess..."During May and June, I talked to Tina on the phone about once a week, the same as Sharon. I also wrote letters and received prompt replies. She'd talk about her daily life—she had found a job in a local poster shop for the summer—and then say she missed me. More than once, she said she missed our 'cooking lessons' and 'movie nights, ' but she didn't get more explicit than that. It was obvious what she meant.Toward the end of June, she wrote that her father was flatly refusing her requests to come visit me in Tucson. He'd said that any man worthy of his daughter ought to be willing to drive up. Perhaps, she suggested, I'd like to visit on the Fourth of July?With some trepidation, I made the two hour drive to Tempe on the Fourth. I did want to see Tina. I did not want to see. ‘She was perfect when she left.’ ‘Apparently, she wasn’t, Lance,’ he said. He took a drink of his whiskey and looked at me again. ‘Look, Lance… I’m sorry for dumping it on you like that. I should have been more sensitive.’ I shook my head. ‘No… It’s okay. I mean, I asked for it.’ ‘We went dancing,’ my father said, staring at his glass. I looked at him for a moment. ‘Dancing? You dance?’ He chuckled. ‘Yes. We used to, your mom and I. It was something we did every weekend. But when the work load got too heavy we had to stop.’ I was staring at the floor, afraid to speak, to move. ‘We were in Nashville,’ he went on. ‘I talked her into going out with me. We were having such a wonderful time. She seemed happy. I didn’t even know that anything was wrong until she collapsed on the floor. She died before I got her to the hospital. I shouldn’t have taken her out.’ He took a staggering breath, looking at me. ‘I know this is horrible. This happening was my worst fear… that she would be the.
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