I'd tried to sleep. I really had. When Luke and I finished cleaning up the pool, he'd thrown a blanket over Dave and then asked if I was alright again... I, of course, had insisted I was fine and attempted to go to bed. It didn't work. I'd closed my eyes and everything, but if I'd gotten any sleep at all it was so restless that it hadn't really done any good.I became frustrated, unable to find the pictures. I just needed one good one, something with my mom's face. I started to search other boxes,. ‘Would you like a sample?’ ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘which one would you suggest?’ ‘What kind of pickles do you like?’ ‘All kinds,’ I said. ‘Ah, a man after my own heart.’ I smiled at that and thought I might also be after her body. I sampled several and bought a couple of jars. As we finished the transaction I said, ‘Does the pickle lady have a name?’ ‘Polly,’ she replied, ‘Polly Pickle.’ ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yep. I married a man named Pickle. He was of Italian descent and I believe the original family name. More

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