For a moment, there was no sound within; then the clattering of heavy-soled shoes and the called-out “Coming!”
The door swung open. Gina stood there, dressed in baggy black sweats and green rubber clogs, breathing hard. Her cheeks were bright pink, her chestnut brown hair a bird’s nest of disarray. She took one look at him, mouthed Oh, then burst into tears. “Joey—”
She pulled him into her arms. For a moment, he was dazed, too confused to respond. He hadn’t been touched in so long, it felt wrong somehow.
“Joey,” she said again, putting her face in the crook of his neck. He felt her warm tears on his skin and something inside of him gave way. He brought his arms around her and held on. The whole of his childhood came back to him then, drifted on the baking-bread smell of the house and the sweet citrusy scent of her shampoo. He remembered building her a stick fort by the fish pond long after he’d outgrown it himself, and baby-sitting her on Saturday mornings and walking her home from school. Though they were seven years apart in age, they’d always been a pair.
She drew back, sniffling, wiping her red-rimmed eyes. “I didn’t think you’d really come back.” She patted her hair and made a face. “Oh, shit, I look like the undead. I was planting flowers in the backyard.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, meaning it.
“Pretend that Grandma Hester’s ass hasn’t moved onto my body.” She reached out for him, took hold of his hand, and dragged him into the sunlit living room.
“I should take a shower before I sit—”
“Forget it.” Gina sat down on a beautiful butter-yellow sofa and pulled him down beside her.
He felt uncomfortable suddenly, out of place. He could smell his own scent, feel the clammy dampness of his skin.
“You look sick.”
“I am. My head is pounding.”
Gina popped up and hurried from the room. All the while she was gone, she talked to him from another room. No doubt she was afraid he’d vanish again.
“—some water,” she called out, “and aspirin.”
He started to say something—he had no idea what—when he saw the photo on the mantel.
He got slowly to his feet and walked toward it.
The photograph was of five women crowded together; four of them wore matching pink dresses. They were all smiling broadly and holding up wineglasses, most of which, he noticed, were empty. Gina was front and center, the only woman in white. Diana was beside her, laughing.
“Hey, Di,” he whispered. “I’m home.”
“That’s one of my favorite pictures,” Gina said, coming up behind him.
“At the end,” he said softly, “she talked about you guys. The Bluesers. She must have told me a hundred Lake Chelan stories.”
Gina squeezed his shoulder. “We all miss her.”
“I know.”
“Did you find it out there … whatever you were looking for?”
He thought about that. “No,” he said at last. “But now that I’m here, I want to be gone again. Everywhere I look, I’ll see her.”
“Tell me that wasn’t true out there, too.”
He sighed. His sister was right. It didn’t matter where he was. Diana filled his thoughts, his dreams. Finally, he turned around and looked down at his sister. “What now?”
“You’re home. That counts for something.”
“I’m lost, Gigi. It’s like I’m stuck in the ice. I can’t move. I don’t know how to start over.”
She touched his cheek. “Don’t you see? You already have. You’re here.”
He placed his hand over hers and stared down at her, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind, so he tried to smile instead. “Where’s my beautiful niece? And my brother-in-law?”
“Bonnie’s over at River’s Edge, playing with Ali.”
Joe frowned, took a step back. “And Rex? He doesn’t work on Sundays.”
“He left me, Joey. Divorced me.”
She didn’t say, While you were gone, but she could have. His baby sister had needed him and he hadn’t been there for her. He pulled her into his arms.
She burst into tears. He stroked her hair and whispered that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere.
For the first time in three years, it was the truth.
Meghann’s desk was clean for the first time in more than a decade. All her pending cases had been portioned out to the other attorneys. She’d promised Julie that she’d take at least three weeks of vacation, but already she was having second thoughts. What in the hell would she do with all the hours that made up an ordinary day?