AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shook my head.
“Well, he should know his way around.” She turned to Adam. “Is now a good time? We’ll be quick.”
Adam nodded. “Absolutely. Unless you need to get back, bro,” he added, turning to Marcus.
Marcus shook his head. “Take your time. But I do need, uh, the lavatory, if you don’t mind.”
Adam laughed and snapped his fingers. “Oh, man, you’re gonna love this. Miss Lockwood, can he use the secret toilet?”
The three of us climbed the stairs as Marcus disappeared underneath them. I’d always been wary of that bathroom for fear that the noise would be broadcast through the house by the same weird acoustics that made it whisper when the wind came up, but the last thing I heard was a cheerful “Hey, neat,” as he stepped into the room, the last syllable clipped as the door closed behind him. After that the only noise was our footsteps and the familiar creaking of the staircase.
Mom sighed as a loose step squealed under her feet. “One more thing to fix.” She turned at the top of the stairs and began moving down the hall, gesturing at doorways and keeping up a running commentary—“Bedroom, master bedroom, bath, parlor, there’s a balcony there, that’s a linen closet”—but a sidelong glance at Adam showed that he wasn’t really paying attention. He kept looking backward like he was afraid he’d be lost or lingering in front of the oil paintings and faded photographs that lined the walls. The paintingswere seascapes, views of the bay and outlying islands that someone had probably painted while staying at the house. The pictures were mostly of the house itself. Adam paused in front of one, a black-and-white photograph in which three men wearing old-fashioned tennis whites were posed in front of the entrance, in the same spot where we’d met the Willowcrest van. One of them was shorter and older than the others, with brooding dark eyes and a luxuriant mustache—but the way he stood between them, with a hand resting on each of their shoulders, you could tell it was a father and his sons.
“Who’s this?” Adam said.
My mother walked over and leaned in close, eye to eye with the tallest of the two sons. “Ah, that would be my grandfather and my uncles. That’s Edward on the left and Robert on the right. Uncle Bob. Edward, I never met. He was killed in an accident before I was born.”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “That’s Miss Miriam’s pop, there in the middle? Damn, he looks intense.”
Mom laughed. “Considering he made his fortune selling illegal liquor to the mafia, I’m sure he was. Edward and Bob were his sons from his first marriage. They were quite a bit older than my mom.”
I drifted away while they talked—Adam wanted to know if there were more photographs; Mom said they had been mostly destroyed in the fire, but Mimi’s family albums were probably stored in the attic—and wound up at the end of the hall, where a window offered a view of the sea. The mist was coming in again, in wisps this time, so that the islands out in the bay winked in and out of view as it drifted past. The last time I’d looked out this particular window was on the day I moved in, when I’d wandered all over the house feeling desperately sorry for myself, reliving the highlights reel of my humiliating departure from New York as if I could change how it ended. Last conversations, last meetings. My last view of Colin as he’d closed his bedroom door in my face, and his voice, floating out through the crack just before it clicked shut, saying, “You’re just kind of basic, Delphine.”
Unlike Mimi, I had nothing wrong with my memory. I could recall every excruciating detail—right down to the exact shape and shade of the mark I left on the door when I kicked it.
My mother was still talking. “Anyway, we’ll stick you in the apartment suite on the third floor. It has its own bathroom and kitchenette, so you can prepare meals if you want to, or of course you’re welcome to dine with us. I’d like you to feel at home while you’re here, but don’t feel compelled. We just appreciate it so much, all you’ve done for my mother. And I have to ask just once more, you’re positive you don’t need some time off for Christmas? Even on Christmas Day? Your family—”
Adam held up a hand to stop her, but not before I noticed the way he flinched when she saidyour family.
“It’s just another day for me,” he said. “My mom passed a long time ago and I never knew my dad. And I guess I have some extended family in Brazil, but that’s a long flight to see people I’ve never met. I’ve pretty much always spent Christmas at work. A lot of people in care homes get lonely this time of year so they’ll really go all out with the decorations and activities. But this—I mean, this house, and a family? I’m really honored you’d let me be a part of it.”
“Well, Willowcrest is lucky to have you,” Mom said. “But Mother will be so happy to have you here. You’re her favorite, you know.”
“Well,” Adam said, smiling, “we’re not supposed to have favorites, but just between us, the feeling is mutual.”
Some time later, Mom and I stood on the piazza and waved as the Willowcrest van trundled back down the driveway and out of sight. Adam had promised to be back around dinnertime, as soon as he’d finished his last shift and circled home to pack a bag. My mother waited until the van was gone, then raised her eyebrows. “So, that was interesting.”
“What?” I said, distracted: in my pocket, my phone had just vibrated with an alert.
“He’s, what, thirty? There’s no wife, no girlfriend?”
“It’s not easy to meet people. I don’t know if you’ve looked at Tinder up here, but it’s pretty slim pickings.”
“I don’t Tinder,” Mom said. “Wait, or is it ‘I don’t have Tinder’? Is Tinder a verb or a noun?”
“It’s a hellscape, is what it is,” I said.
“You could always meet someone the old-fashioned way.”
“Oh, are we talking about me now? I thought it was Adam’s love life you were worried about.”
“I guess you’re the expert,” Mom said. She was quiet as we walked together back toward the house. I hung back for a moment as she climbed the steps, tugging out my phone, smiling as I saw a single alert on-screen. One new message.
Good morning ??
I nearly skipped up the steps, pulling the heavy door closed behind me. As I did, my mother spun around, her eyes wide. “Oh!” she said and snapped her fingers. “Do you think he might be gay?”
“What?” I said, bewildered.
