When they reached the porch, Elizabeth noticed the big cardboard box leaning against the house. “I wondered what was in that thing.”
Anita rushed into the house and came back out, holding a knife. “Open it.”
Elizabeth took the knife and split the box down the seam.
“You ought to put it down,” Anita advised.
Elizabeth slid the box onto the slatted porch floor. It hit with a loud metallic clang. She knelt down and opened the box.
Inside, she saw shiny green poles … white knotted rope.
“It’s Daddy’s hammock.”
“Y’all used to snuggle together in that thing for hours, rockin’ back and forth. I remember hearin’ your giggles from the kitchen while I was cookin’ dinner.”
Suddenly Daddy was there, beside her. Heya, sugah beet, hand your old daddy one o’ them sweet lemonades, won’tcha?
“We used to watch the fireflies together,” Elizabeth whispered, remembering it in vivid detail. “They flew all around us when we were in this hammock.”
“He’d want you to have it,” Anita said. “It’d be perfect over there by the stairs, so you can sleep in it on a sunny day and listen to the ocean below … and remember how much he loved you.”
Elizabeth finally looked up at Anita, her eyes stinging. She couldn’t say anything, not even thank you.
Anita smiled. “You’re welcome.”
March howled into New York on an arctic blast. In the middle of a night so cold that even Times Square was deserted, it began to snow. At first it was just a flake here and there, drifting across the city, but by dawn, God had finished screwing around. Snow fell so hard and fast Jack could barely see the buildings across the street.
He stood at his window, sipping a latte. On the street below, cars were few and far between. City buses rumbled slowly forward, angling toward the stops. Neon signs looked faded and worn against the pewter sky, like collectible postage stamps from a forgotten era. Cottony clouds hung low in the sky, severing the high-rises in half.
He was just about to head into the shower when the phone rang.
“Hello, Mr. Shore. This is the Bite Me insurance agency and we need authorization to distribute your assets, since you have Fallen Off The Face Of The Planet.”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Mea culpa,” he said. It was always better to take responsibility with Jamie. Otherwise, she’d chew you up and spit you out.
“No shit, mea culpa. That’s not even a question. I suppose you’ve been so busy big-manning it that you didn’t have time to call me back about the swim team.”
“We only talked about that two days ago. I knew you wouldn’t do anything right away.”
“Hel-lo, Dad, I think you need to cut back on the peroxide. That conversation was more than a week ago.”
He frowned. “A week? No way.”
“Oh, yes, way.”
“God, I’m sorry, baby. I meant to get back to you. Things have been crazy around here. People mag—”
She snorted at the familiar meant to. “Yeah, right. It’s always other people’s fault.”
He made a mental note to pay closer attention to the calendar. “I’m working fifteen hours a day.”
“That must be why you were out when I called you last night … at two o’clock in the morning. Working.”
Thank God he wasn’t talking to her face-to-face. He felt himself flush. “I took a sleeping pill last night. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately … you know, without your mom.” That was actually true.
And false, of course.
“I didn’t even know you missed her. You never mention her.”
“I do … miss her. She’ll be out here any day.” Suddenly he knew what Elizabeth meant when she said it was tough to lie to the kids.
“You’ve been saying that for too long. Stephie and I have come up with a plan. You’re invited to make it all happen.”
He immediately relaxed. So that was it: Jamie had a plan, and verbally roughing him up was her way of assuring his guilt-ridden participation. “And what exactly am I looking forward to this time, sending you girls to Europe this summer? Or, maybe scuba diving in Aruba for spring break?”
“Stephanie and I are gonna fly into Kennedy Friday morning. You’ll meet us at the airport; then we’ll all fly to Oregon together for the weekend.”
“Huh?”
“It’s Mom’s birthday. You didn’t forget, did you?”
Shit. “No, no. Of course not. I was going to fly out to be with her for the weekend, but then this thing at work—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence. Honest to God, Dad, you’re coming with us. I mean it. You’re a television personality, not a cardiac surgeon. No one is gonna die if you take Friday off.”
What a mess. “You’re right,” he said dully.
“You can meet us at the airport, right? So we can all fly together. We’ll buy the tickets on-line and put them on your Visa.”
“Sure. Why not?”
“And, Dad, it’s a surprise. So don’t tell her, okay?”
Jack closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh, it’ll be a surprise, all right.”
TWENTY-FOUR