Evelyn smiled a little. “My mother died quite young of skin cancer. I always have to look for moles, and keep at it, too. The cells in the body replace themselves so rapidly. Every seven years you have a whole new body.”
Seven years—the amount of time Clara had spent in the glass coffin. “So I have a whole new body since Dad died.”
“As do I.” Evelyn nodded, taking this in. “It hasn’t been so easy for us, has it?”
Evelyn had Sad Blue eyes, too.
“You tried telling me about your parents, once,” the girl said. But Rose had had her mind on other things. “Could you tell me, again? I’m listening now.”
“Well, my father was a drunk,” Evelyn said matter-of-factly.
“And your mom?”
“Pretended he wasn’t one. I grew up with . . . lies. They were everywhere, in every corner of every room. It was as if there was a terrible storm outside, and my parents kept looking out the window and declaring, ‘It’s a beautiful sunny day!’ There were times I thought I was the crazy one. When my mother asked me a simple question—‘How are you?’—I saw fear in her eyes. She didn’t want the real answer. So I would say, ‘Fine, just fine.’ See why I never wanted to get married?”
“Except you did.”
“It took me completely by surprise. Phil was always so honest. My father thought that promising something was the same thing as doing it. Phil kept his promises.”
“But he didn’t!” the girl said sharply. “He promised to keep me safe and sound.”
“He kept that promise, too. You’re here with me.”
In fairy tales, the girl thought, the good parents died and the evil ones lived. But the fact that Evelyn had outlived her dad hadn’t turned her into Evil Lynn. It just made her a single mom. The girl looked down, feeling something on her hand. Evelyn had taken hold of it for a few moments. It didn’t feel like dead man’s finger.
“I’m canceling it,” the girl said.
“Yes, the party.” Evelyn leaned back again.
“I don’t mean that. I mean Forget-Me-Not.”
Moonlight played on Evelyn’s face. Her eyes widened.
There were only about thirty-five hours to go before this thing the girl had wanted so desperately.
“I’m shocked, too,” the girl said.
“But I’m glad,” Evelyn said.
CHAPTER 31
“Then,” the girl began, “why didn’t you stop me the first time?”
Evelyn reached over and picked up the bald elephant. “It made me . . . sick at heart. I worried that I was as bad as Phil, unable to say no to you. But it was the first thing you were ever willing to try. . . . I had to admire you for that.” She put the elephant down. “I admire you still.”
It came to the girl then, out of the blue.
Cora.
Clara had never given any thought to her name. Rose had picked a name that fit like a second skin, but maybe that meant a name you put on or slipped into, something added to the outside. This one seemed to come from deep inside. “Cora,” she said, placing her hand on her chest. “My name.”
Evelyn turned on her lamp and studied her carefully. “Cora it is.”
Cora sat on the edge of the bed. “Dad used to sit on the side of my bed when he read to me.”
“So patiently. He always read ‘Snow-white’ like it was completely new, even though the two of you already knew every word.”
“That reminds me. There’s this old movie based on ‘Snow-white,’ a screwball comedy. I might go see it Sunday—I have to talk to someone about that—but there’s something else I’d like to do this weekend. With you, if that’s okay.”
“What’s that?”
“Come on—I’ll show you.”
Evelyn got out of bed and took a moment to put her kimono on Cora’s shoulders. Then they went to the desk, where Cora sat in the chair while Evelyn stood beside her. Cora tucked her hair behind both ears. She opened Evelyn’s laptop and typed in “Australian cattle dog rescue.”
“I only just heard about this kind of dog,” Cora said. “I saw one, and then I saw another.”
It turned out there were quite a few rescue centers up and down the East Coast, some not too far away, in New Jersey and Connecticut. Evelyn seemed interested. She went to the kitchen to grab a chair and bring it back with her. In the moonlight, they continued looking at the computer for some time, reading about the breed—highly intelligent, tenacious, needing lots of activity. And fiercely loyal, and protective of the people they live with.
Evelyn offered to borrow a company car to make the trip, and said, “We could make a day of it.” Or several days, she added, to find the right dog.
Exactly, Cora thought. There was time.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is dedicated to my awesome and insightful editor, Jordan Brown, with much gratitude and appreciation.
Many thanks to the excellent team at Balzer + Bray: Alessandra Balzer, Donna Bray, Renée Cafiero, Sarah Creech, Valerie Shea, Viana Siniscalchi, and Caroline Sun.