Owen had noticed that soon after Sam and Luna met, they began to speak in an inelegant shorthand. Sure, husbands and wives often finished each other’s sentences. But this was different. He thought they sounded like frat boys agreeing to a previously conceived plan.
Sam drifted past Luna and approached Owen. The two men hugged awkwardly.
“I’m so sorry, Owen,” Sam said.
“Thanks, man.”
“She was a good woman,” Sam added.
Sam’s tone was soft and sincere, which was incredibly rare. Luna took notice. He was really trying, she thought.
“I should call a car,” Leo said.
Owen breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“Yeah. Get some rest,” Luna said.
“I’ll drive him,” Sam said.
Leo appeared stunned by the offer. “I wouldn’t think of it. I’ve got this app on my phone,” Leo said, fumbling with his phone and glasses.
“Put your phone away,” Sam said. “I said I’d drive you.”
Leo sank his phone back into the pocket of his jacket. “That’s very generous,” Leo said. His words and tone were mismatched.
“Yeah,” said Luna, surprised.
After Sam and Leo departed, Luna and Owen compared notes.
“That was weird, right?” Owen said.
“Yes,” said Luna.
She wasn’t sure which element was the weirdest, Sam offering the ride or Leo not wanting to accept. Sam was Leo’s doctor. A few years ago, he’d replaced both of Leo’s knees in close succession. Leo had always seemed fond of Sam.
Owen’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. As Luna handed it to him, she saw the name Amy on the screen.
“Amy? That’s her?”
Owen nodded.
“Did you tell her?”
“Not yet.”
“Tell her before the police do,” Luna said.
“I will.”
“And do not text anything you don’t want the police to read,” Luna said.
“I know.”
“You don’t think—”
“No, Luna. She didn’t do it.”
“Okay,” Luna said. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Owen said, although his conviction had already weakened.
December 2003
“Luna, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Owen asked.
Luna was sprawled out on her bed, smoking a spliff that Mason had sweetly shoved under her door that morning. It was just one day before winter break. Luna had taken her last final that morning; Owen, yesterday afternoon.
“Good,” Luna answered.
What kind of answer was that? Owen thought. “You’re already good,” he said.
“I’m not. But I’d like to be. One day.”
“I meant, what do you want to do with your life? You never talk about that,” Owen said.
“Because I don’t know.”
“What did you want to be when you were a little girl?”
“A firefighter or a horse trainer. Frankly, both of those jobs still sound awesome.”
“You really don’t think about this stuff?”
“Not often.”
“One day you’ll need a job, and there are so many awful jobs.”
“Maybe I’ll be a drug rep,” Luna said. “I hear they make a lot of money.”
“Dude, you can’t be serious,” Owen said.
Two quiet knocks were followed by two more quiet knocks.
“I’m not here,” Owen whispered.
“Come in!” said Luna. They were in her room, after all.
It was Ted. Owen had his own secret knock with Luna—three loud in quick succession—and wondered when Ted had joined the club. Luna adored her knocking system. It was like call screening for visitors.
“Hey,” said Ted to Owen.
“Hey,” Owen replied.
That was generally the extent of any Owen-Ted conversation those days.
“Scoot over,” Ted said to Luna as he climbed onto the bed next to her. Luna passed Ted the joint. He took a hit and offered it to Owen, who shook his head. The whole passing-joints-around-with-unsanitary-abandon really got to Owen. Had none of these people heard of influenza, mono, or even the common cold?
“What’s up, Luna?” Ted said.
Despite Owen’s misguided advice, Ted soon learned that Luna was not interested in probing questions or deep conversations. If she wanted to tell you something, she told you. Ted generally kept his inquiries vague, unless they were in bed together. He had all kinds of questions for Luna when they were having sex, mostly guidance-focused. Luna didn’t mind those.
“I was just asking Luna about her post-college career plans,” Owen said.
“I’m going to be a drug rep,” Luna said, as if it was a lifelong ambition. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a reasonable career goal.
“Shut up,” said Owen.
“I would totally buy drugs from you,” said Ted.
“You always know the right thing to say to a girl,” said Luna.
“How about you, Ted? What’s your plan?” said Owen.
“MBA, then some finance job. Make a shitload of money and retire early.”
“And what will you do when you’re retired? Play eighteen holes of golf every day?”
“Ultimate Frisbee,” Ted said in all seriousness.
Owen caught Luna’s eye and gave her a familiar look: You’re really fucking this guy? Luna returned her gaze to the ceiling, because the ceiling didn’t judge her.
“How’s Scarlet?” Ted asked Owen, to remind him who his girlfriend was.
“She’s good.”
“Where is she now?” Ted asked. He had no qualms about giving Owen the third degree.
“I have no idea. We don’t keep tabs.”
Luna didn’t like it when Owen and Ted spoke to each other. Their conversations always sounded like water simmering before the boil.
“I am a firm believer in extraterrestrial life,” Luna said.
* * *
—
Owen loaded up his car for the drive to his family’s house in the Berkshires and dropped by Luna’s room to say goodbye. Luna, still in her pajamas, had a thousand-piece puzzle scattered on top of a flattened cardboard box on her floor. She had just matched a corner piece to its vertical mate.
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you this morning,” Owen said.
Luna got up from the floor and gave Owen a warm hug. “Have a great holiday. See you in 2004.”
Owen saw no evidence that Luna was prepping for a trip. Her room was as tidy as ever and there was no suitcase in sight.
“What time is your flight?” Owen said.
“What flight?”
“Aren’t you going to Ontario for the holidays?”
“What gave you that idea? I’m staying here,” Luna said.
“In the dorm?”
“Yes.”