Evenfall (32 page)

“Andie?” Cort says again. She looks up at him. He smiles, a bit uncertainly, and opens a paper bag by his feet. He takes out miniature corn muffins, dotted with the season’s last raspberries. There are tiny apple fritters scented with cinnamon basil, and brown hard-boiled eggs still warm in their shells. A container of goat’s yogurt, thick and creamy, with a tang that makes her mouth pucker when she tastes it.

“The yogurt is from the girls,” he says, reaching across to fill her flute with orange juice. “From Clarabelle, actually. But Clarissa sends her regards.”

“It’s really, really good,” Andie tells him.

“The rest of the sendoff’s from Chris,” he says. “He’s really going to miss you. He can’t believe I’m letting you go.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know, am I?” He’s looking right at her.

It’s true her bags are packed, loaded into the back seat of the Nova, which only has to get her as far as Pennsylvania.
It’s the farthest the car has ever been driven, and she’s a little nervous, if she’s honest, that she’ll wind up calling the dean from a roadside garage somewhere, asking for a lift.

“Have you ever been to Pennsylvania?” she asks instead. “It’s only about four hours away. When I went for the interview, the farmland around the college went on for miles.”

Driving there, she’d thought how much Frank would have loved it, the rolling green hills and valleys that made her feel instantly at home. It wasn’t the urban setting she’d wanted, but maybe that was okay. She’s willing to try it and see.

“Is that an invitation?” Cort asks.

“Maybe. Yes,” she says. “If you want to.”

He raises one eyebrow before turning in his seat to look at the house behind them. “You’re not in a rush, are you? Because I have the feeling I’m going to have my hands full here for a while.”

“You really think you can salvage it?”

“I do. Gert’s giving me till spring, and if it works out, Chris and I can lease it. The front of the house by the living room and the bedrooms above it are shot, but the support beam in the attic is still sound. And the land’s good. I can make something out of that.”

When he looks at the house, Andie can tell he’s seeing the future, an Evenfall built to his design, not the hulking wreck behind them.

“I don’t know. Sounds like a lot of work,” she says.

“You know me. I like a challenge.”

“I have noticed that about you.”

She picks at a bit of the muffin on her plate, cracks an egg and nibbles at the white, but she’s too nervous to eat much. It’s time to go. She pushes the plate away, looks at the house again.

“Will you keep an eye on Gert for me? Don’t let her do anything too crazy, okay?” she asks.

“Define crazy,” he says. “You have to remember she’s a Murphy, and reason only goes so far.”

That’s more true than he knows. What happened the night of the fire depends upon who tells the tale, and who is listening. For Neal, the lightning caused a conflagration so large and sudden he swore to the fire marshal that the old house must have been soaked in gasoline. The blaze was so bright, he said, he never saw Nina behind his tires.

Cort has a different take. The fire, he told Andie, was a natural disaster, plain and simple. Put a big house up on a hill, factor in wood that’s two hundred years old, and the surprise is that it hasn’t happened before.

As for Andie, she’s not sure what happened that night. If she believes her aunt, the same flames that drove Neal away from the house carried a message so enduring neither fire nor time could destroy it. Whatever Gert saw or did not see in the fire that night, she’s found a measure of peace in the ashes. For Andie, who saw nothing, that is enough.

“Just promise me,” she says.

He nods. “I will. If you’ll tell me one thing.” He stands, pulls her to her feet. He’s so close she can see the individual lashes around his eyes, the way the tips catch the light when he cocks his head to look at her. She waits.

“If I kiss you right now, will you come back?” he says, and Andie gets the feeling those words aren’t all he wants to say, that he’s biding his time. He’s so close now that she has to shut her eyes. When his lips touch hers, she feels dizzy. The kiss goes on for a long time, and when Cort finally lets her go, she doesn’t move.

In the air above her, blue jays squawk in the tall pines. With her eyes closed, she can see the house untouched by fire: not the future, the way Cort sees it, but the past. The arbor to the right, plump Concord grapes ripened by the sun, the fieldstone steps, the porch where she spent so many hours. She listens carefully, and the noise of the jays fades. In its place she hears the rustling of the leaves, the faint murmuring sound of the creek rushing over rocks, the water dark and muddy. She listens more carefully still and thinks she hears, borne on the wind, the distant jingling of silvery dog tags, the whispered calling of her name. She stays, eyes closed, for a moment longer. When she’s certain she’ll remember, she opens them. She turns and walks down the drive. She can feel his eyes on her the whole way. She takes one last look, standing by the old car, and then she gets in and drives away.

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

1. How is your experience of
Evenfall
shaped by the author’s choice to tell the story through three distinct voices? What details might have been left out if we didn’t have such a multi-perspective view? Did you find it effective?

2. What is Frank hoping to accomplish by staying on in the house as a spectral presence? What abilities does he possess? What is his “unfinished business”? Do you think he finds peace by the end of the novel?

3. Were you surprised by the history between Frank and Gert? How did their relationship come to define them both throughout the rest of their lives? What were the ramifications?

4. Do you think Andie makes a wise decision in starting a relationship (even if just a summer fling) with Cort? Why or why not? What do they offer each other? Is the affair worth the drama it creates, or do you think it is a love that can last?

5. The estate of Evenfall is a central character in the novel. What secrets, history, and energy reside within it? How does memory play a role in this story?

6. Why do you think Gert chose to stay in the smaller house on the property after Clara and Frank’s deaths?

7. In what ways does Andie’s career and life path mirror Gert’s? What choices set them apart?

8. What inspires Gert’s change of heart in warming up to Cort—even helping him to woo Andie back? What lesson from her own past might have motivated her to act this way?

9. Did you find Neal’s appearance unexpected? Do you think Andie made a wise choice by rekindling her relationship with him? How is she different when she’s with Cort?

10. What is Richard’s role in the story—to Andie, and to life at Evenfall? How is he a destructive force?

11. Everyone at Evenfall keeps secrets—Gert from Andie, Frank from Clara, Neal from Andie. How do these secrets come to shape these relationships? What are the consequences?

12. After her illness is revealed, Gert opens up to Andie, offering her advice about the importance of the relationships we cultivate. What might have inspired this confession? Why do you think Andie might have been so receptive to hearing it?

13. The importance of home is a central theme of Evenfall. How does the pull of home—and the responsibility of preserving it—shape each of the characters?

14. Did you expect Andie to stay at Evenfall after her breakup with Neal, Gert’s diagnosis, and the physical destruction of the house? Why do you think she left, and do you think she’ll return? Do you think she made the right decision?