In spite of the heat, Stephanie was setting up in the yard. It wouldn’t be too bad. She’d expressly asked everyone not to bring a gift. Lila’d never had a birthday before and she wouldn’t know the difference and Stephanie didn’t want more junk in her house, but she knew the request was pointless and, sure enough, as the Plumbs arrived most of them not only brought a gift, they were laden with gifts.
Melody and Walt arrived first. Louisa had recently moved into Stephanie’s second bedroom and was preparing for the upcoming school year when she’d be studying art at Pratt, just one neighborhood over. She’d gotten a generous scholarship but not enough to cover room and board. When Stephanie heard she was thinking of commuting into Brooklyn every day, she offered Louisa a free room in exchange for the occasional weeknight or weekend babysitting. They’d only been living together for a week, but Stephanie was surprised by how much she enjoyed Louisa’s company. And Lila was crazy about her big-girl cousins. Louisa—and Nora when she visited—were so good with her, happy to swing her back and forth between them as they walked the length of the yard again and again, willing to sit and amuse her with silly voices or by building towers with colorful foam blocks. Nora had brought her friend Simone today and as Stephanie and Melody stood at the kitchen window watching the girls with Lila out beneath the newly planted maple, they saw Simone lean in and give Nora a quick kiss.
“I won’t lie. It’s a little weird,” Melody said. Her tone was affectionate, if a little melancholy.
“Do you like her?” Stephanie asked.
“Simone?” Melody said. “I guess. She’s intense. I don’t know what’s going to happen when she’s at Brown and Nora moves to Buffalo.” It would be state college for Nora after all. “I kind of hope they do stay in touch. Simone pressured Nora all year to work harder, it’s the reason she got into the honors college.”
“Love can be an excellent motivator,” Stephanie said.
When it doesn’t wreck your heart, Melody wanted to say, but that would have been cruel, so she didn’t. And Melody had to admit Stephanie’s post-Leo life seemed far from wrecked; she seemed happy.
The doorbell rang, Jack, Bea, and Paul all arriving. More presents and ribbons and passing around of Lila, who pulled so insistently at the collar of her party dress that Stephanie took it off and soon Lila was toddling around the backyard in a soggy diaper, red-faced and sweaty. She was wild-eyed and overstimulated and they hadn’t even given her any sugar yet. Stephanie knew she’d never go down for a nap later. Oh, well.
Out back, Jack was hoping to find a bit of shade. The new tree Stephanie planted to replace the one felled during the storm was small. Jack thought she should have splurged a little to buy one that was more mature. He pulled a chair close to the trunk where it was marginally cooler. (Years later, when the tree had grown and formed the perfect canopy over the rear of the yard, Lila would marry beneath the massive leafy boughs turning red and orange on a blindingly beautiful October afternoon. She would ask Jack to escort her down the leaf-strewn path to her partner. Jack would be good to Lila all her life, showing up whenever she was missing a father. On the day of her wedding when Lila appeared on Jack’s almost-seventy-year-old arm, Stephanie would see Leo at her side and for a debilitating moment would be crushed by the enormity of everything he’d missed.) Now, sitting under the tree, keeping an eye on Lila in case she moved too fast and fell—she was still a little unsteady on her feet—Jack was also wishing for Walker, albeit with more melancholy than grief these days. Walker was the only person he could think of who would actually look forward to a baby’s birthday party. He’d heard from his old friend Arthur that Walker was already living with someone new and in a way it was nice to learn that, ultimately, Walker had been the one who wasn’t good at being alone. Jack was more relieved than surprised to find how very good he was at living alone. He’d fall in love many more times in his life, but he would never want another man to share his home.
Bea was corralling the group, insisting that Lila open gifts. She was crazy about Lila but she really wanted the party to be over so she could get home and back to work. She was more than halfway through her novel about an artist who has stopped painting and then, through a series of losses and loves (as she pitched to Stephanie), finds her way back to herself and her art. It wasn’t quite autobiographical, but whatever Bea had loosened by turning her lens away from Leo and onto herself made it all work. Every time Stephanie got new chapters, they were better than the ones that came before. Bea didn’t know the ending of the book yet, but she knew if she kept working, she’d find it; she knew it was in front of her.