Keeper of the Light

but there was a smile on his face.

“Liv,” he said, a tenderness in his voice she had not heard in many months. “I’m the one who’s screwed up here, not you.”

“Nine years,” she said. “You seemed happy. You seemed content.”

He nodded. “I was very content. It was good. It was nearly perfect. I’ve changed, Liv, and I’m sorry.”

She thought of the crib, of the heartbeat that had filled the examining room in her doctor’s office. “We could see a counselor,” she said. “There must be a way we can work it out.”

He shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand to help her up from the floor. He let go as soon as she’d reached her feet, and he started walking in the direction of the door, obviously telling her she had stayed long enough.

“Thank you for the cookies,” he said, opening the door.

She felt a wave of desperation as she stepped out onto the deck. She turned back to look at him. “I meant what I said, Paul. About changing. About quitting my job if that’s what it takes. Maybe I…”

He stopped her with another shake of his head. “You should have your own lawyer, Olivia,” he said, and then he closed the door softly between them.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

July 1991

“Where did you get that?” Clay looked across the breakfast table at his sister. Alec glanced up from the newspaper to see what he was talking about. Lacey wore a headset attached to a small red transistor radio which rested next to her plate. It was the first time he’d seen it.

“Jessica gave it to me for my birthday,” Lacey said, her voice flat. She picked up the radio from the table and attached it to the waistband of her shorts as she stood up, leaving half of her frozen waffle on the plate.

Alec frowned. “For your birthday? Which birthday?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Lacey grabbed her book bag from the counter. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Lacey, wait a second.” Alec stood up as Lacey slipped out the screen door. He heard the slap of her tennis shoes on the driveway as she ran out to the street to wait for the bus. It was her first day of summer school.

He looked at Clay, who stared back at him, his fork poised in the air. “We missed her birthday,” Clay said.

“We couldn’t have. It’s the first, right?”

“Right. And today’s the second.”

Alec felt as though someone had socked him in the gut. “Damn.” He sat down again, closing his eyes, pressing his fingers to his suddenly aching temples as he thought back to the day before. Lacey had been quiet at breakfast, and he’d been absorbed in a report on the erosion at Kiss River. He’d barely taken his eyes off it during the entire meal. She’d been up in her room when he got home last night. She said she wasn’t hungry, so he and Clay ordered a pizza and ate it by themselves in the kitchen. Lacey didn’t come out of her room the entire evening. He’d been surprised by that. She spent a lot of time in her room these days, but it was odd for her to completely disappear for the night.

“Dad?”

Alec opened his eyes at the sound of his son’s new, adult-sounding voice. He sat back in his chair with a sigh. “I don’t believe I did that,” he said. “Did I miss yours too?”

Clay smiled. “No, Dad, I’m October, remember?”

Alec ran his hand over his chin. He needed a shave. “We’ll have to celebrate it today,” he said. “I’ll pick up a gift for her. Will you have time to get her something, too?”

Clay nodded.

“What can I get?” He looked helplessly at his son. “What does she want these days?”

“Mom always got her an antique doll.”

“Yeah, but she’s fourteen now.” He had no idea where he could find one, anyway. Annie usually picked up the dolls sometime during the year and tucked them away for Lacey’s birthday. Besides, they were Annie’s special gifts. Annie died when Lacey was thirteen, so Lacey should have thirteen dolls.

After Clay left, he stopped by Lacey’s room. It was not nearly as messy as it had been before her whirlwind cleaning spree on the day of Clay’s graduation, but the clothes and papers were starting to mount up again. This room had become her refuge.

She’d come home late the other night, rushing past him to get to her room. But the glimpse he got of her was enough to tell him something was wrong: her blouse was misbuttoned, her face tear-streaked. He stood outside her door for several minutes, listening to her crying, before he knocked and went in. The room was very dark and he had to feel his way to her bed. He sat down on the edge and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that she was on her side, facing the wall. She was sniffling as quietly as she could, trying to hide her tears from him.

“What’s wrong, Lace?” he asked.

“Nothing.” He had to lean close to hear her.

“Has someone hurt you?”

She made a sound of disgust. “God, you are so warped.”

Alec pressed his hands together in his lap. “Maybe it would help if you saw a counselor, Lace,” he said. “Would you like that? You’d be able to talk about whatever’s on your mind.”

She didn’t answer.

“Would you like to see a counselor, Lace?” he repeated.