through the leaves. But something was there. Or had been.
Maybe it was gone now.
A squirrel or something.
And maybe it wasn’t.
But the thrill of fear was there. That hadn’t gone, it prickled the skin all over his body. And somehow that made the treehouse even better, that something had scared him there.
What a place!
He hurried down the ladder.
3:25 P.M.
“There’s nothing I can do,” said Claire. “He’s on the
road
already.”
Admittedly it was early. But the vodka tonic helped. And since Melissa was in for a nap now, Amy joined her.
“Where?”
“I don’t know where. He wouldn’t say. Just that he’d see us tonight. So we could talk. Jesus, the last thing I want to do tonight is to talk to Steven. Maybe two months ago I’d have wanted to. For Luke’s sake if nothing else. But now . . .”
She heard Campbell’s pickup pull out of the driveway. It made her feel strangely adrift, abandoned. She didn’t even know the man except for ten minutes’ talk in the kitchen. But he was normalcy, he was the regular stuff of David’s and Amy’s everyday life—one more person on their side, and by extension on
her
side.
It’s crazy
, she thought. But she hated it that he was leaving.
“I don’t get it,” Amy said. “He doesn’t want the divorce?”
“I don’t know. He said he wants to talk about it. He’s mad about something. He had that tone. Controlled. Edgy. Like he gets when he’s holding something back that he doesn’t want to deal with right away but he sure as hell will when the time comes. He’d been drinking.”
“Good. Maybe he’ll drive himself into a tree.”
Claire reached for her drink. Her hand was shaking. She willed it steady.
“I don’t want him to see Luke,” she said. “He missed Christmas. He missed his
birthday.”
“You think Luke will want to see him?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Probably he won’t think about the last six months. He’ll just be excited to see him again. He’s his father.”
And what nasty accident of genetics was that?
she thought. That Luke should be such a decent kid, with such a father?
Oh, Luke was trouble. He was angry. He was defiant. Especially to her he was defiant lately. But partly that was his age and partly it was resentment and confusion over Steven being gone and the two of them being all alone together. Partly it was Luke feeling powerless to make things better. And partly it was her own fear. Her own frustration and anger ingested and absorbed by him.
He was angry all right. Yet there was a firm core of kindness in Luke, of caring and concern. You saw it in the way he’d looked at Melissa before. You saw it in the way he treated other kids. He wasn’t a bullyand he didn’t appreciate kids who were. Though god knows he was big enough to qualify if he wanted to. He was even nice to the girls in his class.
At his age, that was something.
“You know he still has Steven’s Christmas present wrapped in his room? A bird. A blue ceramic bird they made in school. It’s absolutely terrible. He has to
tell
you it’s a bird or you’d never know what it was. But he made it for Steven.”
She was going to cry.
No you’re not
, she thought.
Amy helped, reached across the table and took her hand. The same gentle squeeze that had stopped the tears dozens of times over the years. Stopped them or started them flowing, as need be.
The back door opened and she started, afraid for a moment that it was Luke. She wasn’t ready to see Luke yet, to have to talk to him about Steven.
I hate this
, she thought.
It’s been
six months.
Am I supposed to let him see him now?
But it was only David. He took one look at them and his smile faded. He stopped in the doorway.
“What’s up?” he said.
“Steven’s
on his way,” said Amy.
“What?”
“He just called half an hour ago.”
David closed the door behind him. He went to the antique Coolerator, took out a beer and opened it. He closed the refrigerator door. He did
Maybe it was gone now.
A squirrel or something.
And maybe it wasn’t.
But the thrill of fear was there. That hadn’t gone, it prickled the skin all over his body. And somehow that made the treehouse even better, that something had scared him there.
What a place!
He hurried down the ladder.
3:25 P.M.
“There’s nothing I can do,” said Claire. “He’s on the
road
already.”
Admittedly it was early. But the vodka tonic helped. And since Melissa was in for a nap now, Amy joined her.
“Where?”
“I don’t know where. He wouldn’t say. Just that he’d see us tonight. So we could talk. Jesus, the last thing I want to do tonight is to talk to Steven. Maybe two months ago I’d have wanted to. For Luke’s sake if nothing else. But now . . .”
She heard Campbell’s pickup pull out of the driveway. It made her feel strangely adrift, abandoned. She didn’t even know the man except for ten minutes’ talk in the kitchen. But he was normalcy, he was the regular stuff of David’s and Amy’s everyday life—one more person on their side, and by extension on
her
side.
It’s crazy
, she thought. But she hated it that he was leaving.
“I don’t get it,” Amy said. “He doesn’t want the divorce?”
“I don’t know. He said he wants to talk about it. He’s mad about something. He had that tone. Controlled. Edgy. Like he gets when he’s holding something back that he doesn’t want to deal with right away but he sure as hell will when the time comes. He’d been drinking.”
“Good. Maybe he’ll drive himself into a tree.”
Claire reached for her drink. Her hand was shaking. She willed it steady.
“I don’t want him to see Luke,” she said. “He missed Christmas. He missed his
birthday.”
“You think Luke will want to see him?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Probably he won’t think about the last six months. He’ll just be excited to see him again. He’s his father.”
And what nasty accident of genetics was that?
she thought. That Luke should be such a decent kid, with such a father?
Oh, Luke was trouble. He was angry. He was defiant. Especially to her he was defiant lately. But partly that was his age and partly it was resentment and confusion over Steven being gone and the two of them being all alone together. Partly it was Luke feeling powerless to make things better. And partly it was her own fear. Her own frustration and anger ingested and absorbed by him.
He was angry all right. Yet there was a firm core of kindness in Luke, of caring and concern. You saw it in the way he’d looked at Melissa before. You saw it in the way he treated other kids. He wasn’t a bullyand he didn’t appreciate kids who were. Though god knows he was big enough to qualify if he wanted to. He was even nice to the girls in his class.
At his age, that was something.
“You know he still has Steven’s Christmas present wrapped in his room? A bird. A blue ceramic bird they made in school. It’s absolutely terrible. He has to
tell
you it’s a bird or you’d never know what it was. But he made it for Steven.”
She was going to cry.
No you’re not
, she thought.
Amy helped, reached across the table and took her hand. The same gentle squeeze that had stopped the tears dozens of times over the years. Stopped them or started them flowing, as need be.
The back door opened and she started, afraid for a moment that it was Luke. She wasn’t ready to see Luke yet, to have to talk to him about Steven.
I hate this
, she thought.
It’s been
six months.
Am I supposed to let him see him now?
But it was only David. He took one look at them and his smile faded. He stopped in the doorway.
“What’s up?” he said.
“Steven’s
on his way,” said Amy.
“What?”
“He just called half an hour ago.”
David closed the door behind him. He went to the antique Coolerator, took out a beer and opened it. He closed the refrigerator door. He did
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