“What?”
“It was not this house she wanted. She wanted to keep her home. That is what she wanted. Her home was this house. She wanted her home.”
Melanie at first said nothing, and in that space of silence between them Eva could almost hear the far-off roar of the approaching blaze.
“You and I have lost things we wanted to keep, too, Eva,” Melanie said a second later. “It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t our fault. But we couldn’t stop it from happening.”
“So we just let it go? Pretend it doesn’t matter?” Eva said, the words stinging in her throat.
“It’s already gone! And no, we don’t pretend it doesn’t matter. Of course it matters, but we’ve done all that anyone can do.That’swhat matters right now.”
“But you don’t understand. I’ve done—”
“I don’t want to know what you did before!” Melanie shouted, trampling on the rest of Eva’s words. “I don’t need to know what awful things happened to you or what you did before you came here, okay? That was then; this is now. You are not living that life anymore!That’swhat you can let go of. The fireman gave us five minutes and those five minutes are gone. We need to go.”
When she hesitated, Melanie pulled her by the arm and led her back through the house to the still-open front door.
“Do we tell June?” Eva asked as they stepped onto the porch.“Do we tell her what the firemen will be doing when they go inside her backyard?”
Melanie closed the door behind them. “It won’t make these next few hours any easier. I say we say nothing and see what happens. Let’s go over to my place. I need to grab a few things. And I need you to gather up Nicky’s stuff there.”
She and Melanie hurried over to her house, and Eva grabbed Nicky’s bag of soldiers and toys and his clothes. Melanie came out of her bedroom a few seconds later with her airline tickets in one hand and an overnight bag in the other.
Before heading back outside, Melanie pulled open a drawer in the kitchen and took out a notepad.
“I need to leave a message for Alex,” she told Eva. “Just in case.”
On the note Melanie wrote down Max’s address and phone number. She taped it to the door and pulled it shut.
They got into June’s car. Melanie put the vehicle in gear and they drove into a curtain of smoke.
26
Melanie drove down the hill as one might navigate the densest London fog. Curves that had been familiar before seemed completely foreign now. Usual landmarks she’d relied on in the past to anticipate turns in the road had been swallowed up in a cloak of smoke. Her hands were aching as she at last reached the bottom of the hill and realized her grip on the steering wheel was tighter than tight.
An exodus of other vehicles was already in place when they reached the coastal highway. Some trucks had horse trailers attached, some cars had suitcases strapped haphazardly to their roofs. All were heading south in a caravan of anxious movement. The bilious smoke was less concentrated here, giving Melanie and Eva a better view of the blaze headed their way. The flames were not yet visible on the hillsides but the sienna-hued canopy of smoke that was the inferno’s headdress was immense, filling the sky over the mountains and canyons that separated Malibu from the San Fernando Valley and the rest of Los Angeles.
In the five years she’d been in California, Melanie had not seen such a menacing sight.
Horns blared, though no one could drive any faster than the next vehicle in front of them. It could take an hour or more, Melanie guessed, at the speed they were traveling, to cover the miles to Highway 10—an hour to get away from the mountains and their ample kindling of dry brush and scrub.
It wasn’t until they were finally heading east toward LA and the heavy caul of smoke began to lessen that Melanie began to feel safe again.
She and Eva had said little to each other as she drove. Melanie was imagining what was happening at that moment in June’s backyard, and knew Eva no doubt was, too. And then there were the unwanted images of what Eva may or may not have done before. Maybe someday she’d ask Eva what she’d done, but today was not that day. When they were at last turning into the driveway of Max’s spacious home in Westwood, it was nearly eleven in the morning and the monstrous fire was just an immense copper swath on the western horizon behind them.
They were welcomed into the house by a relieved June and a clingy Nicky. Melanie had never had a child grip her neck the way Nicky was holding on to her now. She held him tight but sought June’s gaze. Max wasn’t in the house.
“He’s on his way to Palm Springs,” June said tonelessly, as though answering a question.
“When did he leave?”
“A while ago. I suppose he’s getting there right about now.” June’s words seemed simple, but all three of them knew they weren’t simple at all.
Eva shot Melanie a glance and June noticed it.
“What?” June said.
“It’s nothing,” Melanie said. “Nothing you need to think about right now.”
