Vera opened the refrigerator and discovered an open bottle of prosecco. “Anyone want a mimosa?” she asked.
Vera drinking translated to Vera not driving home, among other unpleasant scenarios. Owen gave his brother a pleading gaze and Griff nodded in understanding. Despite all that had gone down between them, they could still fall back into their sibling shorthand.
Owen’s mother mixed orange juice and flat prosecco. Griff stole her drink and gave it to Owen.
“Mom, when are you heading back?” Griff asked.
“I was thinking of staying the week. Breakfast is getting cold.”
Owen panicked silently. Griff squeezed his shoulder and accepted the plate from his mom.
“I think Owen needs to be alone,” Griff said.
Owen had a flashback to when they were kids and Griff would speak on his behalf, always more effectively than Owen ever could on his own.
I think Owen needs a ten-speed. It’s time.
Owen could use more painting supplies.
Have you considered letting Owen walk home from school on his own?
Although Owen did recall a few occasions when Griff abused his position.
I think Owen needs a time-out.
Owen seems to be too attached to the television.
It was almost like a hypnotist’s directive, the power of Griff’s words back then. But things had changed.
“I didn’t ask what you thought, Griff,” Vera said, practically spitting his name.
Vera served Owen a plate of pancakes and washed the dishes as loudly as possible.
“Actually, Mom, I do need some time to figure things out,” Owen said.
“Well, the weather is supposed to take a turn tomorrow. I suppose it would be best to drive while it’s still clear,” Vera said.
She didn’t turn around. No one saw her eyes welling with tears.
* * *
—
As Casey and Mason’s departure grew imminent, Luna’s sadness deepened. She uncapped a beer.
“Morning drinking,” Casey said, wheeling a piece of luggage to the door. “I’m so jealous.”
“You want one?” Luna said.
“No. Alas, Mason can’t drive when he’s hungover. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t married such a lightweight.”
Mason, freshly showered, entered the room, carrying his laptop bag.
“Ready?” Casey said to her husband.
“As good as it’s going to get,” Mason said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luna said.
“Me too,” Casey said, pulling Luna in for a hug.
“Ouch,” Luna said.
Mason gave Luna one of his half embraces and a slightly damp kiss on the cheek.
“Are you missing a phone?” Mason asked Luna.
“No,” Luna said.
“I found one under the bed. It’s charging on the nightstand,” Mason said.
“Come visit us. Soon, okay?” Casey said.
After her guests departed, Luna walked down the hall to investigate Mason’s phone discovery. Her mission was aborted when the doorbell rang. Luna assumed Owen had escaped his mother. She was alarmed to find Griff standing on the threshold, rocking back and forth on his heels with Sam the dog panting by his side.
“Griff,” Luna said. “Hi.”
“I wanted to see you before I left,” Griff said. “Can we come in? Or I can tie him up outside.”
“You can both come in.”
Griff unleashed his dog, who bounded into the house and began sniffing around. Luna and Griff strolled back to the kitchen.
“Nice house,” Griff said.
“I had nothing to do with any of it,” Luna said.
“What a weird thing to say,” he said.
“Was it?” Luna responded, thinking it over. She always felt a little embarrassed of her wealth by association.
Griff paced around the kitchen island, trailing his fingers along the smooth marble. Two beers sat on the counter, Luna’s and the one she’d cracked open for Casey.
“I’m not sure why I came here,” Griff said.
“It’s nice to see you,” Luna said.
“Is it?”
Luna took a slug of beer. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not. Were you expecting someone or just getting the other beer ready?” Griff said.
“I opened it for Casey and then she left. Would you like a beer? This one or another one?”
Griff took a sip of Casey’s would-be beer, then remembered that he too had to drive.
“I didn’t know if I should come,” he said.
“I’m glad you did,” Luna said.
Griff nodded, satisfied. Then he walked back to the foyer, with Sam following on his heels. Luna wanted to tell him not to go, but she wasn’t clear whether he was pacing or departing. Griff returned to the center of the house, reappearing in the kitchen. He had another question, or perhaps a statement, that he was on the precipice of speaking. But then, to Luna’s great disappointment, he paced back toward the front door.
“I can’t tell whether you’re leaving or not,” Luna said.
“Sorry. It’s been a long time. I’m nervous.”
“Me too,” Luna said.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
“Go ahead,” Luna said.
She felt extraordinarily awake. Excited, really. Although if pressed, she couldn’t think of anything good that he might want to ask her.
“Is there any chance he did it?” Griff said.
Luna, heart deflated, considered the question. She knew that Griff wasn’t asking lightly.
Griff expected Luna to have a flash response: No, no. Of course not. When she paused, he wondered when she’d begun to doubt Owen—the first time or only recently.
“You think it’s possible?” he said.
Luna snapped back to the present. “No, Griff. It’s not possible,” she said.
Irene, March 2005
Irene’s timing was terrible, but it could have been worse. She could have done it the day of, while her mother was having her hair done, getting sewn into her lace gown. Irene had been debating what to do, whether she should say anything at all. She decided that if she didn’t, she’d always regret it.