Row G, seat 14. Every Tuesday at seven-thirty for eleven years. She sat in 14, Dana sat in 15. The Rialto Theater on Fourth Street, ninety-six seats, single screen. They never missed a week.

Dana has been dead for two years. She still goes every Tuesday. Still sits in 14. Leaves 15 empty.

One November Tuesday, a woman is sitting in her seat.

Small. White-haired. Green cardigan buttoned to the neck. Reading glasses pushed up on her forehead. Eating peanut M&Ms from a box in packaging that was discontinued in the 1990s. She refuses to move.

Her name is Bette Olsen, from Duluth, Minnesota. She was married twice. First to Walter, thirty-two years, the love of her life. Then to Phil, three years, a mistake. Walter died of a heart attack in 1983. In seat 14 of the Rialto. He and Bette had attended every Tuesday for twenty-si ...