“The crew who built that wall. Also, Mimi couldn’t watch us here.”
“‘Mimi couldn’t watch us.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“When we worked around the back she used to stand at the glass and stare at us. I guess she thought we couldn’t see her. The other guys thought she was weird, but she just seemed lonely to me. So I decided somebody ought to talk to her. Her mind must have been a million miles away the day I did because she didn’t seem to notice me until I rapped on the glass. She almost jumped out of her skin. It was like she’d seen a ghost or something. I guess she decided I was harmless though because she came out every day from then on to chat with me. As it turned out, we had things in common. We talked about missing the seasons. The East Coast. New York. I helped her pick out the piano. She asked me to fix things. The rest you know.”
XANDER LEFT WITHOUT coming inside. He said his sister was expecting him.
“What about Frank?” I asked. “He’s expecting you, too.”
“I need to sleep,” he said. “Tell him I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to patch things up with him.”
“Tell him yourself.”
“No thanks. There’s too much going on in there. I’ll be here half the night if I come in. I need to sleep. Frank will understand.”
“Go,” I said. Frank was right. This was the disappointing part. Frank might understand why Xander didn’t show up as promised—or he might not. Then who would have to pick up the pieces? Not Xander. But in the end it wasn’t up to me to talk him into staying. No point in trying to explain to Xander that nobody likes being let down, particularly not kids. With children in the house, you’re on call around the clock whether you like it or not. You don’t get the luxury of enough sleep when that was what you needed most to keep yourself from going over the edge. You’d think somebody Xander’s age would’ve figured that one out already. Maybe if he started sticking around more he’d get it. Alec would teach him. Or Frank, who’d taught me. Frank was the master.
MR. VARGAS WAS out cold on the white couch, like a man who’d trained himself eons ago to grab shut-eye in whatever foxhole he stumbled into. Frank had changed into his Robin Hood attire. He was standing over Mr. Vargas with a suction cup arrow notched into his bow, carefully fitting it over one of his Good Friend Him’s eyelids.
“Frank,” I hissed. “Personal space.”
Mr. Vargas startled all of us then with a snore so loud and sudden that he woke himself up. Frank and I escorted him to bed, Mr. Vargas insisting that he really wasn’t tired.
I made Frank some dinner and let him eat it on the couch in the family room for the first time ever while we watched Double Indemnity together. I didn’t want to put him to bed until I was sure he was spent. Otherwise I figured he’d sneak in on Mr. Vargas to complete his research on the utility of suction cup arrows for extracting eyeballs. When he finally fell asleep on the couch I picked him up and carried him into his closet. I was pretty impressed with myself for being able to carry him so far without breaking a sweat. I guess I’d gotten a lot stronger than I’d been when I first came to live with them. I guarantee you Frank hadn’t gotten any smaller.
After that I went and sat on the piano bench and looked out the windows. Since Mr. Vargas’s arrival, we’d taken to leaving the curtains open at night so we could enjoy the twinkling lights outlining the higher hills in the distance. It was the only time you could really imagine what the views from the house must have been like once.
I was about to put myself to bed when I heard the rustling that meant Frank had started to roam. I switched the piano light on. He was drawn to it like Gloria Swanson looking for her close-up.
“What are you doing?” Frank asked. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I could ask the same of you.” I scooted over on the bench. “Sit. Hey, I remember these pajamas.”
“Yes. I wore them the day we met.”
“Do you remember what we were listening to that day?”
“Of course. Rhapsody in Blue. We discussed Gershwin and Charles Foster Kane and Fred Astaire.”
“Can you play that song, but quietly so we don’t wake up Mr. Vargas? I still don’t know how to turn this thing on.”
While he was fiddling with the player mechanism, Frank said, “In Casablanca, nobody asks Dooley Wilson to play ‘As Time Goes By’ using the words ‘Play it again, Sam.’ People always get that wrong. Ingrid Bergman comes the closest. She says, ‘Play it, Sam.’”
Once the piano got going he sat down beside me again. “I miss my mother,” he said.
“I know you do, Frank.”
“It’s stressful for me to be without her for so long.”
“You’re being really brave, Frank.”
“She’ll be home soon.”
“I hope so.”