The Girl Who Chased the Moon

“Actually, what I think I said was I baked cakes because of people like you,” she finally said. “You’re my target customer, after all.”

He looked like he didn’t believe her. But he smiled anyway. “That’s a nice save.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes went over her shoulder. He’d never been in her apartment before, and she wasn’t going to ask him in now. Sawyer had grown up with money, and she hadn’t. But her things in Baltimore were nice-a little edgy, a little bohemian. That’s who she was now. Not this. She didn’t want him to see this. “It smells good up here,” he said. “I want to live in your kitchen.”

“There’s not enough room. And I only bake here on Thursdays.”

“I know. Stella told me when you first moved in. Why do you think I always come by on Thursdays?”

She’d never even suspected. He was that good. “I can’t come down, because I have company. You and Stella have fun.” She closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. After a moment, she realized that she hadn’t heard Sawyer walk back down. She turned her head and put her ear to the door. Was he still there? Finally there was a whisper of movement and she heard him walk away.

She pushed herself from the door and went back to the living room. “Sorry about that.”

“I can come back later if you’re busy,” Emily said.

“Don’t be silly.”

“So, everyone must have liked my mom, if she was so popular.”

Julia hesitated. But before she could speak, there was another knock at the door. “Excuse me again.”

“Who do you have up here?” Stella demanded when Julia opened the door. Stella had a wide, exotic face, with almond-shaped eyes and straight dark brows. She was wearing a kimono-style robe and her dark hair was pulled up into a bun. Some tendrils, still wet from her bath, were sticking to her neck. “Sawyer said you had company. Are you seeing someone? Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?”

“It’s none of your business,” she said because she knew it would drive Stella crazy. She still hadn’t forgiven her for telling Sawyer about the cakes. And Julia thought it was rich for Stella to demand to know if Julia was seeing someone, when Stella had slept with Sawyer three years ago and had never told her.

She closed the door, but as soon as she walked back into the living room, the knocking started again. Incessantly. Stella had a wild hair now. “She’s not going to stop until she meets you,” Julia said to Emily. “Do you mind?”

Emily seemed game, and followed her into the hallway.

As soon as Julia opened the door again, Stella said, “I’m not leaving until…” She stopped when Julia opened the door farther, revealing Emily standing beside her.

“This is Vance Shelby’s granddaughter,” Julia said. “Emily, this is Stella Ferris.”

Stella seemed incapable of speech.

“Emily came by wanting to know what her mother was like when she lived here.”

Stella recovered quickly. “Well, it’s so lovely to meet you, Emily! Sawyer and I were friends with your mother. Come downstairs and have pizza with us. I’ll pull out my yearbooks.”

When Stella stepped to the side, Emily didn’t hesitate and bounded down the stairs. With the elegant lines of her face and her tall, willowy body, it was easy to forget how young she was, until she did something like that.

Before Stella could follow, Julia grabbed the sleeve of her robe. “Don’t talk about what her mother did.”

Stella looked insulted. “What’s the matter with you? I’m not an ogre.”

Emily waited eagerly for them to come down. Once they did, Stella led the way to her kitchen, her robe billowing dramatically behind her.

Sawyer had his back to them and was staring out the kitchen window, his hands in his pockets. He turned when he heard them enter. His brows shot up when he saw Emily.

“Hello, who is this very lovely young lady?” He pronounced the word “very” Vera, like it was a proper noun, the name of a pretty woman who wore white gloves. There was something inherent in Stella’s and Sawyer’s manners around strangers, something that always gave away their breeding.

“This is who Julia was entertaining, Sawyer, so you can stop pouting. This is Emily, Dulcie Shelby’s daughter,” Stella said significantly.

Sawyer didn’t miss a beat. “A pleasure.” Sawyer held out his hand and Emily shook it. She actually giggled a little, and Emily didn’t strike Julia as a giggler. “Let’s eat the pizza while it’s hot. Julia?” Sawyer walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for her, not giving her much of a choice.

Stella set out drinks and paper napkins, then they unceremoniously ate the vegetarian pizza out of the box. Julia tried to eat a slice quickly so she could leave. Sawyer was casual and relaxed, smiling at her like he knew what she was doing. Stella was as comfortable wearing a robe at the dinner table as she would have been in a Dior suit. And Emily was watching the three of them like they were unopened presents.

“So, you two knew my mom?” Emily finally asked, as if she couldn’t wait any longer.

“We knew her well,” Stella said. “Dulcie and I were in a close-knit group of friends.”

“Sassafras?” Emily said.

“Right. Sawyer dated a girl named Holly who was in the group, so he was one of our honorary boys.”

“You weren’t friends with Julia?”

“I wasn’t friends with anyone back then,” Julia said.

Emily turned to her, curious. She had pizza sauce on her upper lip. Julia smiled and handed her a napkin. “Why not?” Emily said, wiping her mouth.

“Being a teenager is tough. We all know that. Sassafras made it look easy. I looked like the truth.”

“What did Sassafras do?” Emily asked. “Community service? Fundraising?”

Stella laughed. “We weren’t that kind of group. Let me get the yearbooks.” She tossed her pizza crust into the box, then left the kitchen. She swished back in minutes, possibly the only person in the world who knew where to find her high school yearbooks without digging through closets or calling her parents. “Here we are.” She set a green and silver book emblazoned with the words HOME OF THE FIGHTING CATS! on the table in front of Emily, then opened it. “That’s Sassafras, with your mother in the middle, of course. We held court on the front steps of the school every morning before classes. There’s your mother at homecoming. There she is as our prom queen. There’s Sawyer on the soccer team.”

Sawyer shook his head. “I rarely played.”

Stella cut her eyes at him. “That’s because you didn’t want to risk hurting that face.”

“A valid excuse.”

Stella turned the next page. “And there’s Julia.”

It was a photo of her eating lunch by herself on the top row of the bleachers on the football field. That was Julia’s domain. Before school, at lunch, when she skipped classes, sometimes even at night, that was her safe place.

“Look how long your hair was! And it was all pink!” Emily said, then looked closer. “Are you wearing black lipstick?”

“Yes.”

“No one knew what to think of Julia back then,” Stella said.

Julia smiled and shook her head. “I was harmless.”

“To other people, maybe,” Sawyer murmured, and Julia automatically pulled her long sleeves farther down her arms.

“Julia’s father sent her to boarding school after our sophomore year,” Stella told Emily, and Julia turned back to them. “She didn’t come back for a long time. And when she did, no one recognized her.”

“I did,” Sawyer said.

Stella rolled her eyes. “Of course you did.”

Emily was poring over the yearbook now, flipping through pages, stopping every time she came across a photo of her mother. “Look!” she said. “Mom is wearing her charm bracelet! This one!” Emily held up her wrist.

Julia found herself staring at Emily’s profile, a familiar yearning in her heart. Without thinking, she reached over and pushed some of Emily’s hair out of her eyes. Emily didn’t seem to notice, but when Julia looked across the table, Sawyer and Stella were staring at her like she’d just grown another head.

“Who is this with my mom?” Emily asked, pointing to an elegant dark-haired boy in a suit and bow tie. “He’s in