Skylight Confessions (18 page)

Someone who'd been there. They directed her to the sergeant, who'd been at the scene; he was the senior officer now, but back then he'd been one of the young policemen who had watched her sink to her knees on the concrete and pray.

"I wasn't really praying. I just wanted time to go backward."

"That's a prayer." The sergeant got out the file; it was all public information now. "You want to tell me what you're looking for in all this? Because there's nothing in the files that will help you. Just the bare facts. He didn't even leave a note. But off the record, it wasn't the first time the police were involved."

"No, I never phoned the police."

"I mean the first time he tried. We'd been called to the house twice the year before." Before he and Meredith were a couple.

"You're making this up," Meredith said. "Why would I?"

She looked at the sergeant. He was a perfectly ordinary man.

"Because you've seen too many people in pain. Because you're a nice man."

"Because it's true."

She'd been too distraught to notice this officer all those years ago when he helped her into her mother's car, but she looked at him carefully now.

"I wouldn't lie to you," he told her.

"No, I don't think you would."

Meredith didn't go to the cemetery. Daniel had been right. Josh had been alone in his decision; his pain had been his alone, a burden she couldn't share.

Meredith drove around, and when it was getting dark, she went back to the hotel. Her phone was blinking when she got to her room. Daniel had left a message. He'd be waiting for her at Bradley Airport when she flew back in the morning, unless she phoned and told him not to come. She took a long shower and got into bed, and for once she slept well. It wasn't a wasted trip, it was just over. She woke before the alarm began to ring, and the truth was she was ready to leave before dawn.

IT WAS JOHN AND CYNTHIA'S TENTH ANNIVERSARY AND IT was time to celebrate. They were celebrating not just the marriage itself, but, more important, the fact that against all odds, after ten years of trying, Cynthia was pregnant. Cynthia herself was blissed out; she looked like another person, the angles and anger gone. She had been planning the party for months. Tents on the lawn, a jazz band, dinner catered by the Eagle Inn, buckets of iced champagne set out at every table, although Cynthia herself had stopped drinking. She had read everything she could get her hands on regarding prenatal nutrition and had surprised herself with the passion she had for her pregnancy. She took walks twice a day with Dusty and did prenatal yoga every afternoon. Even John, usually so dour, seemed overjoyed about the baby. A second chance to do something right.

Cynthia and John asked Meredith to stay on, but she had already moved to New Haven and was living with Daniel Finch. She continued to help out part-time. She hated leaving Sam and Blanca behind, but Sam was nearing his eighteenth birthday, and Blanca was twelve, very grown-up and capable, perfectly able to get to and from ballet lessons and art class all by herself on her bike.

Meredith was handling the place cards for the party, writing each name in calligraphy while sitting at the table overlooking the pool.

She would miss swimming here. Daniel vowed that when they moved to Virginia, where he'd gotten an appointment at UVA, he would make sure that wherever they lived had a pool. It didn't matter how much it cost. Rent or buy. Condo or house. He didn't care if he had to pay off the pool for the rest of his life.

Daniel had asked Meredith to marry him, but she'd told him she needed time.

"Our relationship began because of time," Daniel said. "You believed a person could be tied to a time so strongly that even death couldn't sever the connection. Do you sincerely think more time will give you your answer if you don't know now?"

"It might. And it might not."

Daniel gave her a diamond ring that had belonged to his mother.

It was antique, set in platinum.

"I'll wear it," Meredith told him. "But I'm not committing to anything."

All the same, as she helped with the Moodys' party, Meredith wondered how she would feel if it were her own wedding she was organizing rather than Cynthia and John's anniversary party. For starters, she would want it small. No people she didn't really care about. No crowds of drunken partygoers dancing all night.

"Do you realize you've invited everyone in town?" Meredith said when Cynthia came out to join her.

It had been a gorgeous spring. Not too much rain. Not too many mosquitoes. The basset hound followed at Cynthia's heels, stepping on its own ears. The dog was devoted to Cynthia. He howled whenever she went out without him and nothing John Moody did could dissuade the dog from sleeping in their bedroom, although thankfully Dusty's legs were too short for him to leap onto the bed.

"Dear Dusty." Cynthia scooped him up. "I promise I won't neglect you when the baby arrives. I'll still feed you hamburger."

She checked through the responses. "Actually, I haven't invited everyone. George Snow, for instance."

Meredith looked up from her place cards.

"John may be blind. I'm not. George was here night and day when Arlyn was dying. You and I both know the truth. Just look at Blanca. She has nothing of John in her."

"She's smart and talented. She resembles him in that way. Did you invite Helen and Art Jeffries?" The owners of the Eagle Inn, who expected to be invited to every event they catered.

"Thank you for remembering. I'll phone them this afternoon.

What will I do when you're gone?" They had never really liked each other, but they'd worked well together.

"You'll hire someone else. You'll be fine."

"I want you here early on D-day in case I need you," Cynthia said. "Especially if Sam acts up."

Sam had been even more withdrawn lately. He was leading a parallel existence while living in the same house as the rest of his family. They didn't bother him; he didn't bother them. Worked out just fine. Fewer fights, fewer scenes. Live and let live. But there was always that worry that something would snap. Something he did would break their calm life apart and leave them whirling through the dark.

"We don't want him upsetting John's mother," Cynthia said.

Diana Moody had managed to come up from Florida for the party, though she was ailing. Her stroke had slowed her down, and she'd recently been diagnosed with diabetes.

"We were thinking of committing Sam to a drug rehab center before the event, it just made sense timewise, but Diana got wind of it and got all upset. She thinks of him as a child."

"I don't know what will happen to him if he doesn't get help soon," Meredith said. "Once he turns eighteen, you won't have the legal right to make those decisions."

"I just want to have this party without incident, then we'll think of what to do next."

"I thought I could save him," Meredith said.

"No one could," Cynthia said. "But at least you tried."

It was Blanca who called when it happened, the sudden snap, the crack in their lives that broke the quiet in two. It was the day of the party, naturally; a Saturday. Meredith and Daniel were in bed. They had planned to sleep as late as they could, until Meredith was due at the Moodys' to help with the party. The phone rang at 6:30 a.m.

"Don't answer," Daniel told Meredith.

She did it anyway. "What if someone's died?"

"Then we'll find out later. Or tomorrow."

Meredith said hello into the mouthpiece. She could hear breathing. She knew Daniel was probably right.

It was Blanca. A very quiet Blanca. "He's disappeared."

Meredith was looking at sunlight coming in through the shutters. The air was filled with swirling dust motes.

"He does that, Bee. You know he does," Meredith assured Blanca. "He'll be back."

"This is different. Cynthia found drugs and she flushed them down the toilet. Sam went crazy. He was so mad it was scary. He said she had no right to throw out something that belonged to him. It was a violation of his personal rights. He pushed her down.

Not on purpose or anything. He was just trying to get past her.

She was standing in the doorway refusing to move, blocking his way. He told me he was going to New York. He's never coming back. He said he had to fly away. It was in his bloodline." "Shit,"

Meredith said.

"My grandmother got so upset, they had to call a doctor. She told Cynthia she'd never even tried to understand Sam. Now they're not speaking, either. He left Connie. I don't know what to feed him."

"Give the parrot a cut-up apple and some of the seed in the bag in the kitchen," Meredith told her.

Daniel was wide-awake now:
Sam?
he mouthed. When Meredith nodded, he said, "Tell Blanca to press redial on the phone in his room to see what his last call out was."

Blanca did so and called back with the number her brother had last dialed.

"Is your dad out looking for him?" Meredith said.

"Are you kidding? When Sam pushed Cynthia down he hit Sam."

Blanca had begun to cry. She was hiding it, but Meredith could hear her snuffling.

"Blanca, calm down. I'll take care of it." "I don't think you can."

"I'll come by the house to talk to your dad before I go searching.

I promise."

Meredith hung up and went for her clothes.

"Maybe it's time to call the police," Daniel suggested. "For his sake."

"He hasn't committed a crime. Anyway, you don't know him —

the harder you chase after Sam the farther he'll run."

"Then try the number Blanca gave you."

No one answered the first call. But it was not yet 7:00 a.m.

Meredith tried again.

At last a young woman picked up. A sleepy hello.

"Can I talk to Sam?"

A pause. Something muttered. Then, "Sam who?" "Sam who belongs to a race of people who live in Connecticut and can fly."

"Sure. If you say so."

There was some background noise, then Sam got on the phone.

"I'm not going back," he said. No hello, of course. No
Who is it?

And most assuredly, no apologies for all the worry caused.

"Okay, but can I bring you your clothes? And you're not leaving Connie, are you?" He did love that parrot; she had to get to him however she could.

"You're tricky." Sam sounded very far away. Wasted.

"Who's the girl who answered the phone?"

"And nosy. Nosy Merrie who wants to change the world. Okay, you can bring everything here if you promise to stop asking stupid questions. And you can't tell the old man where I am."

Meredith wrote down the address. Manhattan. Nineteenth Street. Apartment 4C. She quietly got dressed.

"You don't think I'm letting you go alone, do you?"

Daniel was already out of bed and pulling on his pants. "I don't even know why we're so involved in these people's lives.

"Because I know what happens when you're not involved."

"I'm sorry." Daniel went to her and pulled her close. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair. She just wanted to go.

"Everything bad that happens in this world isn't necessarily your fault, you know."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I am," Daniel said.

They went to the Moodys' house. The tents were already set up on the grass, yellow and white, floating like clouds. But the very tops of the tents were coated with soot and the caterer was having a fit — every dish that had been brought over the night before was now broken. Plus, half a dozen birds had been caught in the tents and no one could manage to chase them out.

"Birds, ashes, dishes," Daniel said. "This party appears to be doomed."

Cynthia came out to the drive. Her face was chalky. The dog followed at her heels.

"I won't have him coming back here and John agrees," she said.

"He pushed a pregnant woman. What will he do next?"

"Fine," Meredith said. "I can understand."

Daniel waited in the driveway while Meredith went into the house. Blanca and her grandmother were sitting on Sam's bed.

Blanca was already wearing her ice blue party dress and her hair was in a long braid. Just recently her legs had gotten longer. Diana Moody was still in her bathrobe. She hadn't been looking forward to this event, and now she thought she might beg off and stay in bed even though she'd traveled all this way.

"That damn Cynthia," Diana Moody said. "I never thought John should marry her."

John had sent the children to visit his mother during Easter vacations until Diana's health began to fail. Surprisingly, Sam always went. Diana still saw him as the little boy she hadn't liked who had won her over in a cemetery. She was mad for him, no matter his flaws.

Diana was ridiculously fragile these days. She didn't care about much anymore, other than her grandchildren. She wished Arlyn hadn't passed on so young. Every now and then she dreamed about the day she found Sam hiding in the backseat of her car. She dreamed about watching him climb that big tree while his mother was at home dying.

"I'll go pack up a basket of food for Sam," Diana said. "I know what he likes."

While Diana went down to the kitchen, Meredith and Blanca filled a duffel bag with clothes.

"I don't want to live here if Sam's not here," Blanca said. "I'll run away."

"Sam's almost a man. He needs a place of his own. Maybe he'll straighten out if he's in a different environment." The parrot was squawking like mad. "Shut up," Meredith said.

"Get out!" the parrot told her.

The bird had a mournful voice and was used to being ignored; no one but Sam listened to him. Connie's vocabulary hadn't progressed much; he had only a few random words to repeat:
Hey,
Awesome, Get out.
Much to the dismay of Dusty the basset hound, he had a ferocious bark.

Meredith grabbed sneakers, jeans, and a heavy coat, along with chalk and watercolors. She took Sam's wallet from the desk, and his electric toothbrush. She tossed the parrot's supplies into a tote bag. Blanca had gone to the closet; her head was down. But that didn't cover up the fact that she was crying. Meredith suddenly felt exhausted. She hadn't had time to have a cup of coffee. Her hands were shaking.