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“Sketching,” she said, holding up her pad. “I have a few things in my head and I’d like to walk along the coast and get some ideas.”
Amy wanted to protest that their plans left her alone, but truthfully, she didn’t mind being by herself. She wanted to go to the bookstore she’d seen yesterday. She looked at Zoë. “Did you really stay up all night?”
“Sure, I do it often.”
“She was still on the computer when I got up,” Faith said. “Maybe you should take a nap today.”
Amy looked at Zoë in question, and she gave a quick nod to let Amy know that she’d been on the Internet looking for something about Ty. Her eyes said that she’d found something, and from her look, what she’d found wasn’t good.
“Well,” Amy said, “I think I’ll go look for replacement sheets for Jeanne, and I’ll sightsee around town.”
“We saw all of it twice yesterday,” Faith said.
“Maybe I’ll spend the morning in that little used bookstore we saw. Remember? It’s down that alley by the pizza place.”
Faith had her head turned and Amy was looking at Zoë, who nodded. She’d understood Amy’s message that Zoë was to meet her there and tell her what she’d found out about Faith’s former boyfriend.
“All right,” Amy said, “I think I’ll finish getting dressed. Shall we meet back here for dinner? Maybe we should cook something.”
“I make a mean zabaglione,” Faith said. “Think I can find vin santo here?”
“You could use Marsala,” Amy said.
“Deliver me,” Zoë groaned. “I’m trapped with two housewives.”
“When you’re home, what do you eat?” Amy asked. “Don’t you cook?”
“I not only don’t cook, I don’t have a home.”
“What?” Faith asked.
“Since the accident, I’ve made my living by painting portraits of rich people and their kids. I stay in some mansion for three to six months and do watercolors and pastels of the whole family. I have become a ‘must have’ of the wealthiest people in the country.”
The way she said it, with a tone that said it was all ridiculous, made Faith and Amy smile.
“If you’re never in one place, how do you see Jeanne?” Faith asked.
“Computer setup. Video, audio, the works.”
“You have a therapy session by long distance?”
“Yeah, sure,” Zoë said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Amy said. “It’s just that sometimes
I feel very old.” She left the kitchen to go to her room. Before she left the house, she took the sheets out of the washer and she could see that they were still stained. That much blood would never come out.
As she put them in the dryer, she again thought about her dream. She’d made light of it to the others, but the truth was that it had deeply upset her. Usually, dreams faded during the day. A person could wake up still half in the dream, but by breakfast the images had dulled.
But not this dream. Right now it was almost as though she could remember the dream more clearly than she could remember her own family. She’d called Stephen this morning, catching him just as they were leaving on their camping trip. She spent about three minutes with each of her sons, but they were so excited about the trip they couldn’t focus. When Stephen got on the phone, the first thing she asked him was if he knew whether the name Hawthorne was in his family tree.
“I have no idea,” Stephen said. “What makes you ask a question like that?”
“I had an odd dream and you were in it and you were named Hawthorne.” She crossed her fingers at the lie.
“Yeah?” Stephen said. “That sounds interesting. You’ll have to tell me about it when you get back.”
There was a pause from Stephen. “Is something wrong?”
