And it turns out I’m fine. As soon as I exit the building, in fact, the twinge of nervousness passes. It’s crisp out again today, and sunny, too, one of those October afternoons promising that anything is possible. As I stride the few blocks uptown, I pass several familiar faces from the neighborhood, and a few neighbors nod hello. A little boy in a stroller smiles and gives me a joyful wave.
I suddenly feel likemeagain, I realize. A city girl with places to go and people to see.This crazy episode is only a blipin my life, I tell myself. I’m going to figure out what the hell caused the fugue state and then guarantee it never occurs again.
My mood sours, however, as I approach the entrance to the bistro and catch a glimpse, through the window, of Marion seated next to my brother, each with a wineglass. I can’t believe it. I pause and consider my next step. I certainly can’t ask her to leave; that would upset Roger too much. Instead, I’ll have a quick drink and beat a retreat.
For half a minute I study them through the window. Marion’s back is to me and she’s shifted her position slightly, so I see only a sliver of my brother now. She’s doing all the talking. I can tell because she has a way of bobbing or cocking her head to punctuate every thought, opinion, conviction, and critique.
I’ve never understood the allure she holds for my brother. I adored his first wife, Kaitlin. She was fun and irreverent—at least in the early days—but over time, years of infertility took a toll on her demeanor and their marriage. Roger had earned millions by that point, and he made sure Kaitlin was compensated generously in the divorce. When he retired early and moved back near Millerstown, he told me he wanted a quieter, easier life, one filled with hiking, kayaking, polishing his culinary skills, and occasional trips into the city for an influx of culture. He eventually bumped into Marion, a former high school classmate, and married her soon after.
I’ve always suspected that what he appreciates about the relationship is the lack of turmoil and angst, compared to the final years with Kaitlin. Marion has no children from her previous marriage and claimed to Roger she never wantedany. Plus, every inch of her seems to relish playing lady of the manor and keeping their life together humming pleasantly along. It just doesn’t include me and Hugh much of the time.
I step away from my position on the sidewalk and push open the door.
“Hey, Ally, there you are,” Roger says, leaping to his feet. He embraces me in a bear hug, and Marion rises, too, brushing my cheek with her lipstick-thick lips. She’s wearing a crisp long-sleeved white blouse, open at the neck to reveal a gold and diamond pendant necklace. Her dark blond hair’s cut short but with a stylish flip in the back.
“It’s nice to see you,” I say, doing my best not to seem vexed. “Please sit.”
“I’m not staying, dear,” Marion tells me. “I know you need time alone with Roger. But I couldn’t pass up the chance to at least say hello.”
That’s funny because it seems that lately she’s been more than happy to pass up any opportunity for that.
“Thank you for understanding.”
She clasps my hands, squeezing my fingers so hard the knuckles pinch against each other. “We’vemissedyou,” she says. “And Hugh, too.”
“Likewise.”
Now she narrows her eyes, staring right into mine with a concerned but knowing look. I can smell her fragrance, a mix, it seems, of roses and jasmine. “You’re always in our thoughts, dear. And we just want the best for you.”
I’m not sure what her game is today. I’m almost certain Roger’s stayed mum about our phone conversation, so this might be a simple power play, her way of pretending she’s inthe loop. Or maybe she’s rummaging for info. Marion has a truffle hog’s need to sniff and unearth.
“I appreciate that, Marion. And thanks for stopping by. I’ll talk to Roger about the four of us getting together later in the fall.”
“Unfortunately, as you know, it’s not going to be for Thanksgiving this year. With your dad away and not doing the big meal, my younger brother Adam insisted we come to his place. Do you and Hugh have a back-up? I could always ask...”
“We’re going to see Hugh’s parents in Boston.”
“Perfect.” She graces me with another lip brush before she departs; Roger is treated to a squeeze of the arm.
“I hope you didn’t mind,” Roger says once we’re both seated. “She thought it would be rude not to stop by.”
“You didn’t tell her what was going on, did you?”
“No, no, of course not. Though she’s aware something’s up because I’ve been preoccupied ever since you called. I’m so worried about you, Button.”
“I’m actually feeling a little better today—and seeing you is already helping.”
It’s true. Being in Roger’s steady, dependable presence anchors me, as it has since I was young—whether he was teaching me how to make scrambled eggs, explaining the stories behind the constellations, or sticking his head beneath my bed to prove there weren’t any monsters lurking there.
At the same time, I’m a little surprised. The last time I saw Roger, two months ago when our father left for San Diego, his light brown hair along the side of his head wastipped with pewter, but he’s almost entirely gray now. There was a time when, despite our age gap, we looked unmistakably like siblings—we both have full lips and hazel-colored eyes set slightly far apart. But it’s hard to imagine anyone thinking that today.
“So give me an update,” he says after the waitress has taken my order for a sparkling water. “Have you pieced together any more details?”
“Unfortunately, not. Those two days are a total dead zone.”
“And they don’t know what caused it?”
“Not so far. Though as I mentioned on the phone, there’s a small possibility it was related to the whole Jaycee Long business.”
