Back at the house, in the kitchen, she ran her fingers along the cool smooth surface of the countertop. She had an integrated blender, a Thermador double oven, a double sink, a dishwasher. Across a wide breakfast bar was a combined living and family room, with paneled walls, stone hearth and a high cathedral ceiling with beams. There was a separate dining room with floor-to-ceiling glass that looked out over an abundant garden with a patio area and swimming pool. Upstairs were three bedrooms and a study. She’d argued with the draftsmen about the bedrooms. We only need one bedroom, she’d said, plus a guest room. He told her that it would be foolish not to have a third bedroom when it came to reselling. With the layout you’ve chosen for the ground floor, he said, adding one wouldn’t even be a problem. And a lot of folks looking round here will have children. Tired, she’d relented. Now, it was an empty hole howling above her head. She poured a glass of cold Coke and sat outside on the patio. The chairs and table were new. Almost all of their furniture was new. They’d hardly taken anything from the old house. It was all too decrepit, too small, so they’d left it. It was cheaper and easier that way. The air force had yet to lease the house, so they could return for anything if they wanted. They’d left so fast. So little time to say good-bye. That was military life though. Pancho was pretty beat up about it. She never said so; someone like Pancho didn’t need to. She was pissed at Jim. She couldn’t figure out why he’d want to throw away the Blue Suit to sit in a tin can. She had this phrase, chimp mode, whenever she talked about him. So, Pancho would say when Grace called her from Houston, is he in chimp mode today? Meaning, was Jim testing the new systems. It rankled her, but Grace knew Pancho was hurting. She could barely look Jim in the eye when they’d gone over to say good-bye. The telephone helped, but there was something about not being in the same place. You moved on; that was it. This time Grace felt different though. She felt tethered. She felt sick when she thought of her little girl all alone in that cemetery. She felt black.
Oh, God.
She stood up quickly and walked around the garden. She was barefoot and the grass felt cool where it had been shaded from the morning sun. The garden was planted up and alive. Deep greens, yellow, indigo-blue. Enclosing it was a wooden fence that ran the length of the house’s rear perimeter. The wood was stained light brown. At the back of the garden, parts of the fence were still exposed where the plants hadn’t yet thickened out. The fence was six feet high. She stood looking at it for a long time. She reached out her hand and touched it. Then she went back inside.