Ezell—
A tragedy. Noah is
Several empty lines followed: space for the words Eudora couldn’t bring herself to write.
And now he is leaving. Shades of his father. It won’t solve anything, but a man doesn’t learn that until he’s walked out on something he can’t get back.
I fear this means a calamitous end to this experiment for us all.
He has forbidden me to tell AJ the reason, and I dread how this will affect her work. She has such talent, but she doesn’t know it. She was never seen or encouraged as an artist before Noah. If he goes now, at this nascent stage, any idea she had of herself as an actor will go with him.
As for Noah, I don’t think there’s anyone he feels closer to than AJ. He truly is her shadow, and she his. Last night, I had them finish our play as it was intended, and my God, the two of them. They were phasing, deep into it, and I heard Noah ask her to stay with him, and he meant it.
Ezell, to think what he’s been shouldering on his own—
Well, not entirely. AJ can reach him in this bond they’ve forged where I cannot—even if she isn’t doing it consciously. And he has loved her as a young man should. Without an end date, without reservation. Now that he knows—I fear she will be his before, and there may not be an after.
This summer has been rosy for us all. Ezell, sometimes when I see them together it really feels like you’re here. I should be telling this girl how much she’s done for me. And instead I must—
I know what I must do. Saying goodbye to this experiment will be saying goodbye to you all over again, but it has to be done if either of them is to survive this. My heart is broken.
AJ let the note fall into her lap. Her face was streaked with tears.
There it was in black and white—the start of their beautiful, fucked-up, inextricable lives.
Outside, she heard Bud barking. She wiped her cheeks and leaned forward to look out the window. Noah was standing on the lawn, feet spread wide as he stared across the yard into the distance. He breathed deep into his lungs; AJ watched his chest expand like a kite in the fleeting August air.
Hastily, she replaced Eudora’s papers and ran downstairs to catch him.
A few days later,Noah decided to make Julia Child’s boeuf bourguignon. AJ had no interest in playing sous chef but offered to do the shopping by way of contribution.
Over breakfast, she watched Noah painstakingly copy down each ingredient from an ancient-looking copy ofMastering the Art of French Cooking,his cheeks slightly flushed as he muttered terms like “full-bodied” and “blanched” under his breath.
“Don’t lose this,” he said, handing the list to AJ with a stern look.
“I would never,” said AJ.
But then Molly Magnusson was calling with some additional notes on the screenplay adaptation, and AJ was looking for the sundress she’d stolen from Libby, and then she was dealing with the clutch on Noah’s ancient car, and it wasn’t until she was walking into Big Y that she realized that she had left Noah’s sacred list on the kitchen island.
As she guiltily trudged back toward Drew House, AJ took heart that Davis had just sent plans for the kitchen. Hopefully Noah would be so engrossed, she’d be able to snatch the list unnoticed.
The second AJ entered the front hall, she felt a strange unease gather at the base of her consciousness. As she paused beside the grandfather clock, she realized what it was.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
For the first time since she had reentered that house, Noah had wound the clock.
“Hello?” she called.
A faint whimpering came into earshot. As AJ edged toward Errol’s study, she found Bud lying outside, nose pushed under the door. She was crying like a small child. AJ’s chest constricted.
Bud’s whines were nothing to the noise coming from within, an awful mewling loud enough to make the thick oak door vibrate. AJ’s heart began to thud as she reached for the handle. Bud looked up at the click of the latch bolt. AJ opened the door.
A horrible sight met her eyes: Noah seated at Errol’s desk, racked with uncontrollable sobs. He was crying so hard, he looked like he wasabout to wretch—his face was twisted into an unrecognizable red mask as he rocked back and forth. The sound he was making was grotesque, a rasping keen. AJ fought the urge to cover her ears.
As Bud charged in, AJ noticed the remains of one of Noah’s model planes lying broken in front of the French doors.
For a split second, Noah seemed almost glad to see the dog. Then he was blinking at AJ, once, twice, and AJ was wishing that she had just taken the shopping list and left. With a twinge, she felt Noah’s dismay at being discovered like this.
