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“No. Please. Stay.” At that, Julia smiled sadly. “I sound like Alice. Brittany, I mean.”
“She’ll never really be Brittany to us.”
“No.” Julia sipped her tea.
“What will you do?”
“Without her?” Julia stared out at their backyard. In the darkness, they couldn’t see much past the river. Moonlight brightened the water. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer.” Her voice softened, trembled. “It’s like watching Mom die all over again.”
She started to say more, but fell suddenly silent. “Sorry. Sometimes . . .” She stood up, turned away. “I need to be with her now,” she said in a small, breaking voice, and then she was gone.
Ellie felt the start of tears. She tossed the blanket aside and got up. What good would it do to sit here by herself and cry?
She walked down into the damp grass toward the river. Across the black field she saw the twinkling yellow lights of Cal’s house. Someday you should think about all the people who love you, El, Peanut had said. Cal had always been on that list. Through both her marriages, all her disastrous affairs, and the deaths of her parents, Cal had always been the one constant man in her life.
Even though he was mad at her for something, he was the one man on the planet who saw her as she was and loved her anyway. She needed a friend like that now.
She was at his door in no time. She knocked.
And waited.
No one answered.
Frowning, she glanced behind her. Cal’s GTO was there, hidden beneath a tan canvas cover and a smattering of fallen leaves.
She opened the door, poked her head in, and said, “Hello?”
Again, there was no answer, but she saw a light on down the hall. She followed it to the closed door of Lisa’s study.
Suddenly she wondered if Lisa was back. The thought made her frown deepen. Nerves twisted her stomach, made her feel panicky, but that made no sense. She knocked on the door, “Hello?”
“Ellie?”
She pushed the door open and saw that Cal was there alone, sitting behind a drafting-like table with papers spread out all around him.
For no reason she could quite touch, Ellie felt a rush of relief. “Where are the girls?”
“Peanut took them to dinner and a movie so that I could work.”
“Work?”
“I thought you’d be out with George tonight.”
“I need new friends.” She sighed. “He was wrong for me. What do I need to do? Take out a billboard?”
“Wrong for you?” Cal leaned against his desk, studying her. “Usually you don’t figure that out until you’re married.”
“Very funny. Now, really, what are you doing?”
She crossed the room toward him, noticing the smudges on his cheek and hands. When she sidled up behind him, felt the touch of his arm against hers, she immediately felt less alone, less shaky.
There was a pile of papers in front of him. On the top page was a faded, working sketch of a boy and girl holding hands, running. Overhead, a giant pterodactyl-type bird blotted out the sun with its enormous wingspan.
He pushed the sketch aside; beneath it was a full-color drawing—almost a painting—of the same two kids huddled around a pale, glowing ball. The caption beneath them read: How can we hide if they see our every move?
Ellie was stunned by the quality of his artwork, the vibrant colors and strong lines. The characters looked somehow both stylized and real. There was no mistaking the fear in their eyes.
“You’re a talented artist,” she said, rather dumbly, she thought, but it was so surprising. All those days while she’d been sitting at her desk, doing paperwork or reading her magazines or talking to Peanut, Cal had been creating Art. She’d blithely assumed it was the same doodling he’d been doing since Mr. Chee’s chemistry class. She felt suddenly as if she were losing her hold on herself. How could she have been with him every day and not known this? “Now I know why you said I was selfish, Cal. I’m sorry.”
