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Home.
At their home.
It wasn’t the little house they first brought her home to, that one with the room with pinks and princesses and unicorns. No, they’d sold that house in 2002 and had moved to this house in Chevy Chase, wanting to give Alice a bigger yard, a better school district. They could afford it. The bookstore was doing well, and they were smart with their money, having saved every cent they could. They even had a college fund set aside for Alice with a nice chunk of change in it. The first day they’d seen the house, the realtor droning on and on about how much curb appeal it had, and would you just look at that front porch, Alice had tugged on her parents’ hands, making them lean down. She’d look up at them with those wide eyes of hers and she said, “I really like this place because it has lilies. Can you buy this house, please?”
Sure enough, there had been the lilies around the side of the house.
They’d made an offer three days later.
And here they had stayed until Alice went missing.
Then it had just been the two of them.
Until David said the things he’d only thought in the blackest part of his heart.
He wanted to ask why they were here. Why Phillip had brought him here.
A little voice in the back of his head asked, Did Keith ever come here? Is this where he kissed Phillip?
Instead, he said the most asinine thing he could think of. “The lawn looks good.”
Phillip snorted. “Get out of the car, David.”
David did.
As he shut the door, he almost took off running. It was a close thing. He almost ran down the short driveway to disappear into the rainy night. It’d be easier, he knew. It’d be easier than coming back ho—here.
He didn’t, though.
Still. It was close.
He held his coat against his chest, the rain cold against his hair and ears and cheeks. Phillip was already around the car and walking up the stone path toward the front door. It was too early for any lilies, and David was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he could have handled seeing them right at that moment.
Phillip was up the stairs to the porch and almost to the front door before he must have realized he wasn’t being followed. He looked back over his shoulder. David hadn’t moved from where he stood next to the SUV.
“Come on,” Phillip said. “Come on.”
His feet wouldn’t move.
“David. Please.”
That got him moving.
It always did.
His steps were stiff, his knees barely bending, and he probably looked a little awkward and more than a little ridiculous. But he was moving, and that had to count for something.
He stopped at the bottom of the porch, Phillip facing him at the top. There were only four steps that separated them, but it almost felt like it was too much. Like if he took these last steps, there’d be no going back. He didn’t even know what Phillip wanted. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he just felt sorry for David. Maybe he had boxed up some of David’s books that he’d left. Maybe he wanted to sit David down at the table in the dining room, that mahogany beast they’d found at a specialty shop in Chinatown, and he’d say, “I wanted to see you because I’ve met with an attorney to figure out how to best divide up the assets. I wanted to see you because I think it’s time we end this, David, so we can both finally move on. I want a divorce.”
That scared David, almost as much as anything else ever had.
He deserved it. He wouldn’t blame Phillip for that.
People could survive for only so long in stasis.
Eventually, something had to give.
So, no. He didn’t want to go up those last few steps.
