Daniel glanced down at his shirt. He smoothed it over his chest.
“I thought maybe we could go for a walk,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything but a strip club since I’ve been here.”
I looked down at the pajama pants I’d been rocking for the last few days. They hung on me more than usual. I was getting skinny.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said.
I lingered by the table. Daniel watched me.
“Fine,” I said. “Give me a minute.”
¦¦¦
Outside, the sun was high and the blue sky glowed like it was backlit. We squinted against the brightness after days inside. I had yet to retrace my steps to the lake since the day I followed my computer into the water, and I wasn’tquite sure why I felt compelled to go there now. But, since my father was gone again, and my car was on E, there were few other attractions of note.
Daniel didn’t seem to care. He shuffled along, a step behind me, pleased to be out of his self-imposed captivity. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and held his face up to the light, like he hadn’t been in the sun in years.
“So why are you doing this?” he asked with his eyes closed.
I watched his face.
“Walking outside for no reason?” I said. “Because you asked me to.”
He smiled.
“Helping your dad with his business.”
“I’m his partner,” I said.
I could hear the flatness in my own voice.
“I didn’t ask what your role was. I askedwhyyou’re doing it?”
For a guy who didn’t love talking, Daniel had a way of asking pointed questions.
“It helps just to do something,” Daniel said, after a moment. “Is that it?”
He put his hands in his pockets.
“When I first came home from school after Jonah died,I helped my dad repaint the garage. Then I did the whole house by myself, even though it looked fine. Every day, I climbed up the ladder and slapped on another coat. Dad was happy to provide the paint. The only thing he believes in is hard work, even if it’s meaningless. It worked for a little while, though. I felt better. Maybe it was the endorphins. Or just having a sense of purpose. But I think mostly it was the distraction....”
“—And that’s what you think my life is right now,” I interrupted. “The symbolic painting of a garage?”
My voice came out louder than I’d hoped, but Daniel didn’t flinch.
“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking.”
We moved down the hill where the lake was quiet. There were no people on the path. And for a second, I felt that summer vacation sense of being alone and unsupervised in a daytime world. But I couldn’t help thinking about my last time here.
“Tess?” he said.
“Sorry,” I said. “Just zoning.”
The calm lake appeared before us, divided in half. One side was dazzling white with reflected sunlight. The other half had the darkened aura of an abandoned bog.
“It’s not a distraction,” I said finally.
Daniel turned toward me.
