Home Before Dark by Susan Wiggs Page B

movements, she sorted through the clean clothes, coming up with a wisp of lace—a thong.
    â€œI bet this is yours.”
    â€œNo way.” A smile teased one corner of his mouth.
    â€œNo?” Jessie put on a baffled look. “You mean you don’t wear pink lace undies?”
    â€œLila’s,” he said.
    Yikes. Wasn’t Lila a bit young for that? “Do you see any of your undies in here?”
    â€œNuh-uh.”
    â€œSo you want to run around bare-assed all day?”
    â€œYou said ass.”
    â€œIs that bad?”
    â€œWe say bottom.”
    â€œOh. I’ll try to remember that.” Scanning the cluttered room, she spied a tiny pair of swim trunks hanging from a doorknob. They were surfer shorts decked with navy hibiscus blossoms. “Scottie, I’ve had a brilliant idea.” She pointed out the trunks.
    â€œMy swimsuit!” He scrambled down from the stool, his little butt hanging out as he crossed the room.
    Jessie reached for the shorts. Her hand met empty air.
    God, not now. She reached again, knuckles hitting the door. Concentrate. Focus. Grim with determination, she found her field of vision and reached again, this time seizing the shorts. “Voilà,” she said holding them out.
    â€œWah-la,” Scottie echoed, all smiles.
    He was still smiling minutes later, long after Jessie had run out of patience. Her nephew insisted on putting the pants onall by himself, and did not seem to think that making it an all-day operation was much out of line.
    God. Luz had gone through this with four kids. And she was still sane. How could that be? Yet as she watched Scottie inserting one foot, then another, into the leg holes, Jessie was seized by a sudden affection that brought a rush of sweetness through her as though she had gulped a mocha latte. The kid was beyond cute with his tumble of chocolate-colored curls, his little tongue poking out in concentration, his pudgy feet pushing against the fabric. She felt the loss of her years with Lila. Dear Lord, what have I missed?
    â€œI’m so glad I got to see you, Scottie,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
    â€œHuh?”
    She smiled. “It’s just good to see you. I feel like the luckiest auntie in the world.”
    He went back to dressing himself, taking forever to fasten the Velcro closure at the waistband.
    While she was waiting, Jessie had found a bottle of pink nail polish and was doing her toenails, grimly proving to her self that the vision in her right eye still served. Through the diminishing field, her close-range acuity was nearly perfect. She glanced up to see Scottie watching her. Then, without a word, he stuck out his tiny bare foot.
    With an air of somber ritual, Jessie painted his toenails. The look on his face filled her with an absurd gratification. Then his mercurial mood shifted. “Where’s Mom?” he asked, looking worried again.
    â€œShe said we could eat Cheetos for breakfast.”
    â€œNuh-uh.”
    â€œAnd red Kool-Aid.” Taking his hand, she brought him over to the fridge.
    The guilt that had been gnawing at her since Luz had awakened her dug deep.
    I could have stopped Lila last night. She reeled from the thought, wished she could race away from it, but she couldn’t. She had colluded with Lila, covering up her deception as though it were a schoolyard prank.
    We’re only going for a walk by the lake, I swear, that’s all.
    Why hadn’t she challenged the lie in those wide, green eyes? Jesus, was she blind already? Why hadn’t she heard duplicity in that pleading young voice? She should have, because it had been like looking at a mirror into the past. She used to lie all the time, used to run wild. The only one who had ever seen through Jessie was, of course, Luz. God. She would give up all of her vision right now if she could have that moment back.
    â€œSo where’s the Cheetos, huh?” Scottie asked.
    She