hair.
“What’s that all about?” Adam asked. “What’s a love-knot?”
“I don’t know,” Merry said, gulping. “I think it’s like a French braid.”
“What’s a French braid?”
“Nothing. Adam. It’s about love outlasting death. They’re ghosts. Did you get that? She shot herself to warn him but he was still shot down.”
“That’s terrific. Kind of a happy ending thing,” Adam said with a sneer. He turned on the sports channel, standing on tiptoe to point the remote over Meredith’s head.
“But they’re still together. Isn’t that the most romantic?”
“Sure. That took four pages?”
“I never heard it before. I’m going to copy it and keep it.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Adam.
SOMEBODY’S SON
M allory woke on the couch and nearly jumped to her feet. She felt as though she’d slept for nine or ten hours. But when she glanced up at the exceptionally ugly clock Dad had won in a Chamber of Commerce raffle—a bas relief in wood of the Pioneer Woman statue on the square with the arm she pointed forward as the minute hand—she saw that it was barely eleven a.m. Still Sunday.
The dance had only been last night. It felt like a year ago.
She’d lain down at eight, perhaps eight-thirty, once she was sure that Adam was finally out like a light after she’d made him cinnamon toast and cocoa for which he was starving but too shaken to eat. Adam kept asking if Owen was going to die. Merry kept assuring him that he wasn’t. By then, Mally was herself exhausted.
It had been a long, long night since she and Drew got the panicky call from Adam. Drew dropped Mallory off immediately. Although Adam usually loved being left home alone, he acted weird, almost as though he were a little kid afraid of the dark instead of nearly a teenager. He followed Mallory from room to room until she finally got him to go to sleep.
Something was bugging Mally.
It wasn’t like her to ever forget a moment from one of her dreams—the extraordinary kind of dream that she greeted with undeniable attraction and dread. But being up all night, sleeping on Sunday morning, alone in the house—all of it had Mallory turned around. So it was with a shock that she remembered, while brushing her teeth, what she’d “seen” during her nap.
There were a man and a woman, seated side by side on a generous, wide old wooden porch—the old man leaning forward to touch ... his wife? Perhaps his wife ... Mallory could hear them speaking in old, reedy voices she somehow knew were accustomed to soft reassurances of devotion, now raised in anger: I’m taking them now, Helene. You can’t go on like this forever. I’m taking them to the museum in White Plains. They got a real nice display there. It’s finished now, darling. It’s finished.
Don’t you touch them ... or if you have to, only take the things they gave us. Not the toys or the pennants. Please leave me that. Please.
I won’t give away ... childhood things, Helene. Not to strangers. Just the part that happened over there. I’d like for some of the toys and such to go to the children. Perhaps they’d like to have them.
I don’t want anyone to have them! At least, not all of them. Not now. Wait until I’m gone, too.
We got grandchildren now, Helene. You don’t want to go looking to leave them. You said all you wanted was ...
I know what I said.
It’s true! You don’t pay those girls and their brother any more mind than if they were puppies. It has to stop. I’m not ready to go live in a box. I feel just like you do.
You don’t, no. You couldn’t.
“Meredith?” Mally called out softly.
“I’m here, ’Ster.”
“What were you doing?”
“I did some homework. Adam’s okay. He’s upstairs in Mom’s room, watching TV. I saw Owen at the hospital. It was strange. Luna poured out all the formula? So they couldn’t see if there was some contaminant in it. Not for that reason. She told me she had a premonition. But actually, I think
“What’s that all about?” Adam asked. “What’s a love-knot?”
“I don’t know,” Merry said, gulping. “I think it’s like a French braid.”
“What’s a French braid?”
“Nothing. Adam. It’s about love outlasting death. They’re ghosts. Did you get that? She shot herself to warn him but he was still shot down.”
“That’s terrific. Kind of a happy ending thing,” Adam said with a sneer. He turned on the sports channel, standing on tiptoe to point the remote over Meredith’s head.
“But they’re still together. Isn’t that the most romantic?”
“Sure. That took four pages?”
“I never heard it before. I’m going to copy it and keep it.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Adam.
SOMEBODY’S SON
M allory woke on the couch and nearly jumped to her feet. She felt as though she’d slept for nine or ten hours. But when she glanced up at the exceptionally ugly clock Dad had won in a Chamber of Commerce raffle—a bas relief in wood of the Pioneer Woman statue on the square with the arm she pointed forward as the minute hand—she saw that it was barely eleven a.m. Still Sunday.
The dance had only been last night. It felt like a year ago.
She’d lain down at eight, perhaps eight-thirty, once she was sure that Adam was finally out like a light after she’d made him cinnamon toast and cocoa for which he was starving but too shaken to eat. Adam kept asking if Owen was going to die. Merry kept assuring him that he wasn’t. By then, Mally was herself exhausted.
It had been a long, long night since she and Drew got the panicky call from Adam. Drew dropped Mallory off immediately. Although Adam usually loved being left home alone, he acted weird, almost as though he were a little kid afraid of the dark instead of nearly a teenager. He followed Mallory from room to room until she finally got him to go to sleep.
Something was bugging Mally.
It wasn’t like her to ever forget a moment from one of her dreams—the extraordinary kind of dream that she greeted with undeniable attraction and dread. But being up all night, sleeping on Sunday morning, alone in the house—all of it had Mallory turned around. So it was with a shock that she remembered, while brushing her teeth, what she’d “seen” during her nap.
There were a man and a woman, seated side by side on a generous, wide old wooden porch—the old man leaning forward to touch ... his wife? Perhaps his wife ... Mallory could hear them speaking in old, reedy voices she somehow knew were accustomed to soft reassurances of devotion, now raised in anger: I’m taking them now, Helene. You can’t go on like this forever. I’m taking them to the museum in White Plains. They got a real nice display there. It’s finished now, darling. It’s finished.
Don’t you touch them ... or if you have to, only take the things they gave us. Not the toys or the pennants. Please leave me that. Please.
I won’t give away ... childhood things, Helene. Not to strangers. Just the part that happened over there. I’d like for some of the toys and such to go to the children. Perhaps they’d like to have them.
I don’t want anyone to have them! At least, not all of them. Not now. Wait until I’m gone, too.
We got grandchildren now, Helene. You don’t want to go looking to leave them. You said all you wanted was ...
I know what I said.
It’s true! You don’t pay those girls and their brother any more mind than if they were puppies. It has to stop. I’m not ready to go live in a box. I feel just like you do.
You don’t, no. You couldn’t.
“Meredith?” Mally called out softly.
“I’m here, ’Ster.”
“What were you doing?”
“I did some homework. Adam’s okay. He’s upstairs in Mom’s room, watching TV. I saw Owen at the hospital. It was strange. Luna poured out all the formula? So they couldn’t see if there was some contaminant in it. Not for that reason. She told me she had a premonition. But actually, I think
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