Love, Lauren

Hey, Raul:

You’ve only been in Guadalajara a week and it already feels like months since you left. Tell your mama and hermanas hello from me.

Plans for the arts center are coming along. Abigail and I have hired a female architect to draft the first set of blueprints. This gal is someone my dad knows and really likes. She has designed a beautiful art gallery in New York and a stunning museum of modern art in Miami. The rest of her portfolio is impressive.

I also have to admit I like it that she’s a woman. It just seems appropriate somehow. I don’t mean for that to sound bad. I just think of all the women in Mercy’s life – and in mine – that have had such a pivotal effect in this journey, and it just seems right. For Mercy, there is the memory of her mother, and the women who were accused before her, and the Goody Trumball who tried to help her. And Prudence, of course. And then John Peter’s sister who gave the diary back to Mercy’s family – to Mercy's cousin’s wife. Then there is me. And Abigail. And Esperanza. And even Clarissa.

I mentioned all this to Cole and he told me I was being sexist. Cole also thinks I should re-write the ending of the diary so that Mercy comes back from the dead to haunt the people who falsely accused her. Since you know Cole, you know he’s only half-kidding.

Did he tell you he’s coming up to Santa Barbara this next weekend to see Clarissa? Like, a date . . .I am not sure what to think. I don’t want to see either one of them get hurt. Sure, Cole seems like a self-assured lady’s man, and Clarissa is a street-smart chick who won’t take crap from anybody. But inside they are as fragile as the rest of us.

We shall see . . .Miss you,
Love, Lauren